I cut a cantaloupe from its rind and hold it, scalped 
and slipping.  Inside it, there are seeds in folding rows, 
dark in the concentric hollow, and I don’t know how 
I will remove them, 

and I don’t know how they keep one another, 
in loose grasp, from falling, 
or what they would touch if they fell.

Washing dishes she notices, and is startled 
by the dent at the base of her thumb that appears 
when she holds her hand splayed
and the forearm does not quite meet the smaller bones.

Morning in the kitchen, light bright metal in the sink, 
I go to stand beside her, 
show her my own, matching hollow.

Slowly we are removing from our belief 
those who, we’ve been taught, understand things,
the calm ones in clean shoes.

Tenderly we are removing them, 
from the walls like fire escapes that have allowed us 
to sit inside without concern.

Inside we find that we are standing, together at the sink
and we begin to cut the melon 
whichever way we can.

      New Year’s Eve

Two sisters side by side,
benched at the gleaming fin

of the living room’s out-of-tune baby grand,
work out a mash-up, Adele’s “Hello”

& Kate Bush’s “Wuthering Heights,”
Hello, it’s me. . . , Heathcliff, it’s me, it’s Cathy,

voices by turns treble, then cemetery-dusked,
meandering, & hungry

as the sinew-tracks of moles
sponging December’s yard,

painted mouths of iced puddles,
branchless leaves snaring the window

with inhuman gale.
One swallows this heavy beauty,

rolls the mordent perfume
back to bloom as the other slips out

of autumn’s whalebone stave, descant.
They sing as if still girls. As if before

love’s scarlet evidence, & not, like the year,
the trees, already moved, moved through.

Inside me / The mini-monster is / Eating at the edges / Of my heart again / Don’t feed it my
friend warns me / But my heart is just there / How can I stop the monster’s / Small mouth from
opening / When it wants so much and I / Want to be needed / It’s / The / Anxiety of April / The /
Anxiety of / Being human / I’m walking through the world like / I have / A plastic Tupperware
of Cheez-its / In my Miu Miu bag / Wondering what’s with / Sisters / Thinking / With my
terrible memory I should / Write more things down / Thinking / What work is done so / That
work is done / Hostage / To our breadmaking I try / All the sleep masks to see which / Block out
the most light / Track my money / Until it turns / Into a / Firefly each / Dollar I don’t have /
Lighting my room / Like a film screen nightmare / These days critique / Can’t be subtle even
though / So I have that / Human anxiety / Where I worry / About what people think / It must be
okay / For women like me / To feel all this rage / I don’t care / I don’t care / I don’t care / About
exclusion / Because / We build / Our bodies against / The day-to-day / If what we say / Isn’t
enough / Here’s the data / Is it ever / Enough / I look at / Every / Real / Estate / Listing as if / I
could have / These other / Lives / Who am I / There is / No one / Who can prepare you / For how
your body / Will change