for Bernadette
I root around in the box, wanting
to wear my mother’s pearls again
before I die. Or the tiny diamonds
my husband bought to court me,
veined turquoise from Taos,
amber, any amount of silver,
clip-on rhinestones—gorgeous
but sheer murder. One hot morning,
Bernadette the freckled, the brave,
plucked a ripe plum from her yard,
held it fast to my skull as she steered
a sewing needle through my unspoiled lobes.
I would have suffered worse—
and did, in truth—
to be a tramp in my mother's eyes.
Among sailors, a pierced ear once signified
the wearer had crossed the equator,
voyaged far and wide. I don’t know
who moved on, or away. I only know
that when I bled, she stooped
to swab the ruby drops with iodine,
gold hoops swinging.
Cynthia White's poems have appeared in Adroit, Narrative, Massachusetts Review, Grist and ZYZZYVA among others. She was a finalist for Slapering Hol's 2021 Chapbook Prize and the winner of the Julia Darling Memorial Prize from Kallisto Gaia Press. She lives in Santa Cruz, California.
Welcome to SWWIM Every Day’s National Poetry Month project: Sing the Body: A Collection of Poems Praising Our Selves!
With support from Florida International University’s Wolfsonian Public Humanities Lab (WPHL) and Florida International University’s Center for Women and Gender Studies, we are publishing poems that celebrate body positivity and our selves.
In addition to publishing the poems as poems of the day, 10 select Sing the Body poems will be displayed on FIU’s main campus near mirrors and places where women encounter themselves. These poems will live in a dedicated portfolio on our website.
Thank you, as always, for reading and supporting SWWIM Every Day! Happy National Poetry Month!
