Manica Poem Series #1

it is difficult to talk to our mothers about their mothers

on the anniversaries of deaths

of screaming matches with daughters

fights with sisters

questions about stolen babies

dreams

she said that he said while she stood there holding his perfectly pressed suit

I like you too much to let you go

on my arm today and hate that you are there

not that I hate you there but the air tonight

just calls me and i can float

away from this life we made that i hate

not you

rather than weigh me down just wait in tonight

she said she meticulously pulled at the seams of her dress

made especially for this first outing after the second baby born barely after the first one

twice she had taken the seamstress to the three o'clock matinee

to sketch Elizabeth Taylor's dress

bubble skirted boatnecked wasted time

cinching her not post-baby enough bulging stomach

that now went wedding white on the inside

with dread

in the same way that he had spoken

with neat and small cuts

she tried to pass the night

disappearing the dress in vain

with scissors