lots of histories

some that made it to her story

                                               trickle

                                                     trickle

                                                             trick

                                                                     le

she holds up the hems of her skirt to collect the moods of her ancestors 
she loses her brother to a missile that hits the sunroom

a piece of it lodged in her calf 
she weds a man she loves

lives the life she’s been taught dreaming of easy days 
she fills the pockets of my pink snow coat with nuts and dry fruit

almonds to keep you warm
she swallows the rock in her throat at the airport waiting for answers

her home and her people on the other side of earth
she attends her mother’s funeral via long distance calls

her grief sticking to the walls of the home she’s built on stolen land
she dreams of her mother picking an onion out of her breast

the biopsy disagrees and the chemo takes her eyebrows  
she forces her hand to sign divorce papers while her children hold her weeping body

she must live days made up of her fears 
i’m weary after another battle with chemicals set off by the memory in my body

she makes me mantoo

noshe jaan jiggeram