YOU REMIND ME OF YOUR GRANDMOTHER

tell me I remind you of my grandmother

and I’ll tell you you remind me 

of yours

trying on a dress, hovering in that 

unknowing

because you were young 

and  each day 

compared 

because you learned code, 

butterflied the curtains of 

a waterfall 

sometimes in an apron, arms locked

sometimes into hooks

of other women 

when you are so disappointed

you cry hot lizard tears 

you remind me of her

when you want to rest but cannot

you remind me of her 

when you resent the grey sky 

you remind me her

when you screech

at any hint 

cracked sunset 

just beyond the spit

you remind me 

of her