for not wanting Vagina!
shouted on my Facebook wall,
I confess
I have never been the one
to stand in the town square
with my bra strap smoldering.
And even in summer I wear socks.
I like my toes tucked in,
as I like my dresses falling nearly to my ankle,
rippling and swirling behind me
and around me like a river
where the most beautiful stones
are covered with water lit by sun.
that evening we veered
off the Piazza il Campo
(where the fountain’s water
still rises from
some ancient acqueduct),
down the medieval,
cobbled alley where
we found
the atelier shop—
in the window, a gown
the Queen of Swans
must have left
behind, a promise
or a wish
for some human
to behold. My daughter,
who wears plaid shirts
and skinny jeans, who favors
no boy at 15, stared
into the glass, turned
to me: Mom,
I will be married in that dress.
is the author of four poetry collections, including Yaya’s Cloth
(Iris Press, 2007), and We Lit the Lamps Ourselves, just published from
Salmon Poetry in Ireland (August 2012). Her work appears in many journals and
anthologies, including Poetry East, Wisconsin Review, Women’s Review
of Books, Southern Poetry Review, and Atlanta Review. She lives
in Madison, Wisconsin with her husband, daughter, and a cockapoo named Penny.