Anoint
By Carlina Duan
in the waiting room, I watched women snap
rubber bands around their wrists, running
their hands through hair to tame thick flames
of want. & didn’t I understand, too,
this desire? its tide pressed in: some
days, a chalice; other days, a charm.
all summer long, my aunties pressed offerings
to my lips: jujube dates, porcelain bowls of
star anise and knotted herbs, pungent
& steaming. Drink this; Eat this; This will
heal the uterine muscle—my muscle gone silent,
emptied of speech. in the waiting room, we waited
to be told of our utility, listening again
as the automated fountain rang & rang with water.
in the parking lot, my aunts wrung their hands.
on the radio, another headline about a foreign
ambassador; a borderline; a wildfire come
& gone. somewhere, a field of flowers erupted
out of black grass. inside, we crushed plastic
bottles of water and listened for our names.
