There was a woman on the third floor
She sang ‘you are my sunshine’ repeatedly
What kind of trauma had she endured?
Me with my lack of tonsils
Choked by cigarette smoke and the smell of crab
God forbid you crack a window
The sheets stuck to my dry legs and I don’t know how that’s possible
yet I drank all the water
Washed down the pain
I thanked my lucky stars I had my mother
To soothe all my worries and darn me a lullaby with her knitting needles
One day I had a visitor
Who said she knew my aunts
She told me stories about the old days
All the while eating a cupcake with the wrapper still on
Ten days later
I couldn’t help but wonder
Whatever became of the maid
Pissing in the garbage can in the hall
and where her sunshine was.

M.