Sister Sonnet 1
TW: Water/swimming, crying
I hold the paper underneath my chin / as a sister traces my taut top lip /
with a pair of hair scissors. Silver / shines, but my eyes are closed: scared of a slip /
of the only hands I really trust to / cut crisp into me an artful kinship. / Teach me to see
myself in the
mirror / with love. Create me a discipleship: / Each meeting of the blades
to free me:
some / gnarled voice that sings from bow of sunken ship.
The moon hangs high and full and uneclipsed.
We sit side by side by side painting nails. / I cry so sweet the water lets