We


are wee spidresses,
spinning with painstaking grace,
knowing it will be blown apart,
as was the last one.
 

(our babies go through the washer and dryer
in their tight cocoon, bleached dead from the
ride, unnoticed in the cuff of a
gentleman's trousers)

 


—Tiffany Lee Brown

First appeared in Jitter Review, Summer 1995