Red high heels, plastic pearls,
a weekend’s worth of Beauty
and the Beast, Lion King, Snow
White, and my niece is turning
hoarse, rocking, rocking
her body against the back
seat of my car. Her crying
now coming out my ears.
I look in the rearview mirror
but she’s too small. I see
almost my mother’s face and rub
the lined brow, my fingers
cold, white, gripping
the back seat of my uncle’s car,
noise as we pull away, my
aunt’s voice like the ocean
loud in my ears, my uncle’s head
suspended above the seat, my
mother shrinking
through the window.
