Sometimes

By Jennifer Vasicek

We are Women

Who don

Heavy coats

And

Scotch-tape our thighs

Together

Hoping this

Transparent stickiness

Will hold

Our legs, our lives

Together.

 

It almost never does.

 

We are Women

Who boil

Stew for our children

Add in sage,

And sweep unhappiness

Under the frayed rug

Over torn linoleum.

 

We dress our children

In woolen scarves

While scotch-taping

Little thighs

Together

Hoping that this

Transparent stickiness

Will hold

Their legs, their lives

Together.

 

It almost never does.

 

We are Women

Who hang

Lace curtains over

Rusty window panes,

Put wild flowers in a

Chipped jelly jar

And

Scotch tape the lives

We hold dear

Together.

Hoping that

Invisible stickiness

Will hold

Our loved ones

And our lives

Together.

 

Sometimes it does.