The first morning
they were just a little reddish
purple watercolor stain
My husband said
maybe it’s a sign,
I think it’s a sign,
I said, a sign of what
and then they broke through
and there was a little blood
but not too much
so I just put on a hat
with a wide brim
The second morning
he said why don’t you
join the circus
you’ve always wanted
to join the circus
and what he said was true
The cat wanted to join too
she walks narrow things
so we both went
At first we were hot,
sold out every night
Our own dressing room,
and you could tame
a lion with us, you could
do impressive things
But they kept growing,
I couldn’t carry them
and it was inhumane, really
how they wheeled me in—
the children cried
and when the cat
toed her way across
it wasn’t so impressive
anymore, we weren’t so
impressive anymore
My husband said
I miss you, come home
but we were under contract
and anyway
it still feels special
when you’re the only one
who can do something
It still feels special
even when most of your body
feels like the inside
of a fireplace
and when you need a mirror
to see the sky
I think it’s better that way
all that light
getting to shine twice