the snow comes down with no thought of me.
the first snow. the people carry parceled meats
out and into their cars, packing them in
like babies, minding where the seatbelt hits.
lord, there are things I want to ask, but I don’t know why I would.
I don’t have money for the flowers I pass.
I want the ghoulish ones. I want to smoke. lord, I want to smoke.
lord, I want to lay myself in snow. want it blue all around me
as we move to night. I can’t wait til night. lord, the lines are long.
the people stretch into the aisles. lord, don’t let me be recognized
shuffling behind someone else’s cart or into a pew. this weekend
I satin stitched white over my face, or an older one: a picture
from the day of my baptism. my grandma and baby me.
I was exorcised and I was blessed. I was exorcised and I was blessed.
I pierced. I pulled. the thread runs long over me. lord, the thread runs long over me. lord,
the snow comes down with no thought for me. the cars course by
and no glance for me. lord, it was a shame to cover my white dress in white thread.
lord, I must have also been in tiny white shoes,
was I in tiny white shoes? lord,
what shoes did I wear?
is a Pakistani Mexican poet born and raised in Northern California, where she lives again now, working on her manuscript. She holds an MFA from UW, Seattle, where she also taught. She was a finalist for the 2019 Wabash Poetry Prize. Her recent work appears in Black Warrior Review and The Pinch.