The yolk and white returned to the un-damaged chamber. Spacecraft launchedbeyond escape velocity, crossingthe Kármán line. That a man in a pressuresuit planted his feet and a flag on the moonwhile I was learning two-digit additionand subtraction at th…  | By Luisa A. Igloria on September 11, 2024 | The yolk and white returned to the un-
damaged chamber. Spacecraft launched
beyond escape velocity, crossing
the Kármán line. That a man in a pressure
suit planted his feet and a flag on the moon
while I was learning two-digit addition
and subtraction at the kitchen counter.
Years later, that I birthed not one but three
daughters; and each time the threads
suturing the episiotomies close, melted
back into my body (self-healing, the doctor
called it). That I sat in a high-ceilinged room
and nearly signed a document laid on two
sheets of carbon paper, saying it was my fault
my marriage did not prosper—this being
the only way I was told I could apply for
annulment. In an earthquake, that the firewall
cracked, roof to foundation; and the dining
cabinet slid from one wall to the other but
not a single glass was broken. Every year,
storms flooded poor, makeshift houses
around the quarry, but every year, they were
rebuilt. And I remarried, though I swore I'd
never do so again; and bore another daughter
when I was 40. That I am still alive somehow,
after a lifetime of breaking and mending. | | | |
No comments:
Post a Comment