Queen Anne’s Lace
I wear a lace dress to Sunday school
It looks like the flowers in the ditch
Beside our trailer
Our teacher tells me that I’ll never know
What it’s like to be like Christ,
Hanging from the cross,
To hold the burden of the world’s sins
In a single
Overflowing
Organ
As they pump out across my hands
My feet
Like red Kool-Aid
But I know a thing or two about hanging
(I’m growing up in the South),
About uncertain limbo
(My daddy is a tall stalk
of undocumented Cuban sugar cane)
About being caught between the earth
And the sky
(Trampoline summersaults are my favorites)
And about bleeding
(Just look at my scabby kneecaps)
Sarah Fonseca spends her time longing for a southern drawl and a good slice of German chocolate cake. Her work has appeared in The Q Review and in the digital pages of Autostraddle.com.
