Volver

Means to return to
being the ghost
of a mother to daughters
single mothers themselves
despite every conscious effort
and cautiousness not
to shadow her wrongdoings
no matter how un-identical
their flaws and faults may be
far from spectacular for sure
but more spectacular
than she can ever wish for
which is why she doesn’t delay
her grand re-entrance
into the world of butchered past
climbing into the trunk
of a parked sedan
(her youngest’s
the hairdresser-of
a-divorcee who runs
an illegal beauty parlor
in the bathroom of her\
claustrophobic condo)
as her daughters watch her
curl herself up fetus-form
beside an overnight bag
as if she can squeeze her way
back to a time that’s
never been fully hers
holding on to what’s left
of her strength
as the car speeds away
from the province
where she was born and
was abandoned by her first love
and learned to pray
on dark deserted nights
for a better past
to seek refuge in
as she does throughout
the long drive back to the city
only to vent the very second
the engine stops
banging and pleading and
scaring the soul out of her daughters
until, finally, they find it
in their hearts to pop open
the trunk and watch the woman
who tore open her body twice
clamber out of the trunk
plant both feet on hard dirt
so she can finally straighten her dress
while asking for forgiveness
for failing to see beyond
her own pain and misgivings
vowing one last time to put an end
to the threat of the impossible
and if it’s okay to do her the last favor
of dyeing her hair brown
as those unremorseful days
before guilt settles ever so
simply and gently like dust.