knife in the sky

My aunt has been blind since birth.
She's been known to cut the rain right out of the sky with a knife,
so don't tell me you can't just stop crying.
Just stop.

*LIFE*
the velvet hand of it, reaching up your dress
for the silk and grass you are
what you've become through the years:
of mascara
of hair
of underwire

the knuckles you have created to hold back
so that your head is above water
and feet firmly planted

they knew to raise us this way
with vined morning glories beaded up our spines

to make our jobs look easy and prettier-
but we know

that we are in gardens -
weeded high, hard to overcome
our backs against trees
old with gossip
rough and dark

and our knees, red from kneeling
hearts, strong with yesterday
hands, ready for healing.