a field of strawberries & two
rusted ten yen coins, a quartz striped
pebble, peach pits, piano concert
from the afternoon you dragged me off that yamaha
& into the car. heat bubbling my stomach
into my throat, into my forehead—sweat
dribbling from the corners of my eyes
down to my chin as i steamed, tugging
at the itchy polyester sleeves of that stupid
violet dress eight years ago, as your fists swelled
against the tinted windows of your Audi, your face
wrinkling like a petunia without sun.
you and mama fought, soundless, just
mouths puckering and peeling open like fish,
and i traced the little rivers in my palms
to their roots.
