Maria
Maria
Last night I went to bed and dreamt of you.
You weren’t my younger sister in my dream
And she was not your mother, only mine.
You held an empty box. Its space was like
The pit in my stomach. Like when we fight:
Two girls, an empty box, and no ribbon
To hold the scene together. Our words were
Heavy like my heart when I heard…
When you got sick. Stay with me, don’t ignore,
I know you hate it when I fear for you,
Especially out loud- when I use words.
It’s easy to argue about filling
The car with gas, or when you piss me off.
It’s easy to talk about red-headed
Children that I will have before you do.
In these places there are no directions
And where we go there is no wise counsel.
I won’t scare you with my fears, Maria.
The poem, the lines, these two girls, are sisters.
