My Cousin Jasmine Hates Me
by Katie Lee
My cousin Jasmine hates me because
I’m the favorite, the eldest daughter
of the eldest daughter, but mostly
because I killed her chick, flattened it
under big borrowed rubber shoes
while I was chasing her
or being chased, I never remember
which. Her family’s backyard was already
a graveyard of rotting oranges.
We watched the soft lump inflate
a few final times before laying it
against the back of the pool shed, unburied,
because we couldn’t close its eyes.
Then there were no chickens in the house
and no consequences for what I had done.
Now, every time they tell Jasmine
she dresses wrong and can’t stay
in school and press her life against
my silhouette and cut off the parts
outside the lines, I wonder what else
I’ll take from her. I think of the chick
and its windowless eyes still open,
watching as closely as every generation
looming over our shoulders.