A Game of Jacks
The nostalgia and complications of girlhood and the journey into womanhood.
I want to call you and challenge you to a game of jacks
We played on grandma’s porch
Skillfully scooping metal stars into our curved palms while trying to catch the red ball
We forgave our fouls.
We sweated out our childhood from the root to the ends of our relaxed hair
Brightly colored barrettes never to be found again.
We are lost to each other now.
I wonder if you remember that I am slow to anger
Grandma said I was a water sign
You - a fire sign.
At grandma’s house, we were sisters and cousins.
Keeping each other’s secrets and sharing clothes until we shape shifted into women
The catcalling began at age 12
By 16, we swung our hips like weapons
Fiercely brown geled our baby hairs
Our lipstick was wet and wild
We just wanted to be free.
The male gaze can enchant a young girl raised without a father.
And so you chose him and left grandma’s house.
Your belly round
Your face full of tears
Grandma said she could smell the sin.
She wanted you to feel shame
Unwed mother just like your mother
Just like my mother and our grandma too.
You gave birth to your daughter and named her Savannah
Will you teach her to play jacks?
I hope you do.
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