WEBVTT

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The next one is a poem--

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it's a persona poem, I guess,
written in the form of a letter

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from--

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imagine two sisters and
one of them has died

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and the one who alive is
writing a letter to her sister

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some years later, simply
called "A Letter."

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"It's been a long time.

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I've lived at the ends of
several streets, childless,

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with several men, walking
the shore rounds of my days

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in search of you.

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Some nights, you come alive,
unexpected in my dreams.

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Always I am saying,
but you're dead.

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What are you doing here?

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I get so confused.

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When I touch your face, cold
in the cold glass, so cold

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it hurts.

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It's my face and my pain.

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This morning, I took down the
album with our photographs.

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The flawed lovely
Jewish face, the bosom

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too large in a child's
dancing costume,

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and above in a childish scrawl.

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Sister, I love you.

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Today my husband told me
I'm one year older than you.

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You were my big sister.

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I learned to live from you.

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Our children will never meet.

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A tiny me and slightly larger
you hiding from their parents.

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Every troubled child must
hide to stay so small.

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But no womb seems small enough.

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I know it's silly.

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I only half believe.

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But when my husband's gone to
work, when my work is done,

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I'll mail this
letter as I always

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do into the earth and
a different place.

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Happy birthday.

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It is my own death I
celebrate, not yours.

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Nothing is as I
thought it would be.

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Nothing has changed.

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I can't find the right
body to grow into.

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Today, you live in mine."

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