questions for daughters — Bella Majam

do you still part 
the soft belly of a pomegranate 
with the tip 
of your fingernails? 

does sand salt 
the soles of your shoes 
though you’ve never seen 
the shore? sometimes, i want to say 

we were once daughters too: 
wide-hipped in our cotton 
skirts, tumbling 

down the river 
with grass-bit ankles. 
when i say girlhood was not yours

and yours alone, when i cry 
child, you believe what you feel 
is all there is to living, 

i pray for the rusted scent
of your blood-slicked forehead
to mine, i ask  

when the time comes 
for the bones i built 
to make way 
for another’s, 

gaze upon her toes—bruise-soft 
toes, coin-small toes—
and be born again. 

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Bella Majam is a writer with a scattering of small publications, including fifth wheel press and Ice Lolly Review.