elementia
The Woman, The Daughter
By Cady StevensAuburn curls waltz in my eyes, flames in my earliest memories.
I remember most parts fondly.
Matching blue eyes, struggles inherited
from your mother.
We struggled existing
as the proper mother and daughter.
First Confession
By Maria TanRed scratchy fabric lining the confessional
Imprinted a checkerboard into my knees;
My spine stacked upright,
Leading to heaven, or down into hell;
Guilt or shame pulling my head down;
Tears would’ve fallen on my baby cheeks
If the church hadn’t been as cold as hell was hot;