On Emotion

It was inside, gathering heat in her blood, slowly killing her.
 
No one said a word.
 
And this grew her fury further, grieved her immeasurably.
 
What did it look like.
 
A knot, or a slag of granite.
 
I imagined another brother, unborn for he was only a knot.
 
How my granite brother would never leave her.
 
I grew up in her abject sadness, which soon became our speaking.
 
And then I left.
 
Smaller, smaller, he was her favorite.
 
Jays nag the first light.
 
And now I am awake before dawn hoping today is a day when I won’t have to say anything.
 
And then I.
 
To me, it was unintelligible.
 
I could see through her skin, see my brother not growing inside her.
 
Would he ever come outside.
 
The raging jays, the squawking catastrophe.
 
I wanted to know.
 
What is the difference between a son and a daughter,  I wanted to know.
 
That is private.
 
That was her answer.
 
Credit

From Some Say the Lark (Alice James Books, 2017). Copyright © 2017 by Jennifer Chang. Used with permission of The Permissions Company, Inc., on behalf of Alice James Books, www.alicejamesbooks.org.