Our mother had the wrong kind of children
to peel delicacy
from our palms
not yet wide enough
to have our fortune told.
On days we could not stand
to reach up,
crossed fingers could not save us.
Cleanliness was holy
water. Cleanliness was sharing a bath.
But like children cement themselves
and skinned knees are still
we’re buckled in.
Our own fortune happened
such a well written piece of literature from a budding writer. I also use to share a bath #twinsReplyDelete