Into your hands
I came/you delivered me
from my mother's wrath/from her rejection/from all these voices
screaming accusations
you gave me a home
for as long as you had one
in my head you are
a sturdy woman
big hands/and a heart/cliche
predictable
like red-peas soup on Saturday
you were always predictable
so I always knew
I could find you hands rubbing my feet
(chinaroyal foot) you never beleived they would get much bigger
and they haven't, really
always
they could be nestled in your hands
toes like pieces of ginger
I know nothing of this frail creature they describe
in my absence you grew small
I imagine I could hold your hands now
nestled in my small spaces
I wish I could have held you
in those last moments- were you scared?
did you weep
with joy
regret that you kept us
against their counsel
you loved me more than anyone
ever has
you cried
everytime I came to you
you cried
and I
blinked back the waters
told you
you would live forever
you loved me despite these bright colors blazing an identity
irrelevant
like the size of my shoes
you made room for me
half-breed
abandoned
you kept me from being orphaned
even while my mother lived
far far away
she raised a daughter who will never see you smile
I envy my liitle siter
who will never bleed for you like this
I am not sure I ever found the right words
to say thank you
for my life
and for the years you gave me with my brother
today I am
I am missing his laughter
missing this boy/man/child
who still refuses to take my calls
even now
with your hands frozen folded across your chest
he keeps his lips pursed in anger
even in death
your hands hold me
even with all these accusations I bear
for a story I lived
a story I am commited to write
I will write you as you were, Grandma
never a harsh word
you said/soft words turn away wrath
you taught me to measure my anger
use it with precision
nobody can take these letters
you planted in my tiny palms
years ago you laid out psalms that mean little to me now
except that you made me read them
even while you could not
you insisted
that girls should learn to speak the language of books
you who lived through what was supposed to kill you long ago
you held me
bloody body pouring viscous into a world
where nobody wanted me
except you
I learned to walk upright
your stooped shoulders insisting
that pride is holding your ground when you knew it is right
you knew it was not right for me to stay
in Jamaica
without the space to be all of me
and still
against the ire of your first girl
you stayed for us
for me
and a boy who will not speak to me now
no matter how many times I call
even now
I ache for him
only he knows how much I loved you
surrogate
mother
grandmother
in these last years
you became our child
our memories melted/ fused by your large hands
holding me
and him together
you were the only one who kept us
together
even if your death does nothing to draw us close
your life
bound us/brother/sister
both of us left
by family
years later
in the absence of structure we drew maps to you
and sometimes
on our way there
we crossed each other
talked a little
reminisced about the days when you could chase us
level us with your eyes
or a spoon/a slipper pulled from your foot and thrown
today
you threw us one last time
and sent me flying
to the airport
flight late
three hours
four hours
and waiting
but I am coming home to see you, Grandma
no matter how still you lie there
hands cold from all these years of living
I know you were tired
nearly a century is hard work to survive
even with me and my lover at odds
even now
we are working hard to stay
loving each other
in a world that wants nothing of who we are
hands holding feet pinned down resisting the urge to send each other
flying far far away
when you passed
she placed her hand on my back
and made me a sandwich
she was still
and present
with me wailing in spurts
because I cannot find the voice for sustained weeping yet
because I am busy traveling
traveling to see you home