When we are together,
We draw stares
But  we dismiss them without care.
I do not look like my mother.

We attract the queries of the passersby
Those who say we've caught their eye.
Adoption's not the reason why
I do not look like my mother.

I am my mother's, biologically.
They all say, "How can that possibly be?"
All that people take time to see is that
I do not look like my mother.

Sensitive yet self-assured,
With the world's driest sense of humor
You would swear, "That's Tania Junior."
I'm exactly like my mother.

Filled with pride and strong opinions,
Sweet, yet stubborn,
Always happiest when helping others,
I'm exactly like my mother.

The ultimate goal is always perfection.
Our brains seem to scatter
In the same general direction.
I'm exactly like my mother.

Never let our cups go dry
Never let our wallets or bellies go empty

Never let this music cease
Or our bodies be arrhythmic

Never let my sisters stop smiling
Or allow them to let go of my hands

Keep this family unit solid
And far from the corners of the globe

Always let our laughter be joyous
Never a single unhappy tear be shed

Keep us in this miraculous state
As eyes, hearts, smiles all glisten

And please don't let the sun set, Lord
Because this is the only day you've ever listened.

This tiny precious growth
Was nestled in my womb
Until the day they wheeled me
Into that god-forsaken operating room.

Translucent paper gown
Is all I have to catch my tears
If only had more to cover myself
I might disguise my fears.

The doctors were well-meaning
The instruments they used, cold
They cut into me right past my heart
And straight through to my soul.

Can't you see you've taken everything?
All that might have brought us joy
I asked the nurse what my growth had been
You killed our son. My boy.

Words are like cinder blocks
Grout and brick
So make sure they have some substance
Be sure that they will stick

Pencils and chalk
Build straw and stick structures
Pens, however
Create true architecture

If your words have significance
If they ring through the firmament
Please write them in pen
Give them some sort of permanence.

Hands shaking as they clumsily undo
Buttons, zippers, clasps
Articles of clothing discarded

Every word that passes between us
Hangs suspended in the air
Like dust motes
Only larger, more distinct
Each facet perfectly discernible
By its own beholder's eye

This was wrong
I could feel it
As my synapses fired
Unconsciously guiding my hands down his back
Arching mine

It feels wrong
But mostly it feels
So
right
Now.

I've delivered your messages
Transcribed your letters
Worn heels and tight dresses
For you the past four years

No one knows better
Your favorite tie is argyle
You like your coffee lukewarm
And you prefer the pickle on the side

It began with passion-filled glances
But soon we were taking all our chances
To share stolen kisses
In the privacy of a custodial closet

Then came the late work nights
Telling my mother we had production to boost
When the only thing you were boosting
Was me onto your paper-littered desk

And I felt *****
Even though you said you'd do nothing to hurt me
I knew it was lies because you did nothing to help me either
And I loved you

I could care less for the moon
All I want is you to no longer make me suffer
Make me a wife or a mother
Something, anything other than just your secretary/lover

All because God made my skin the wrong color.