Birthplaces
Shame was at your big sister’s 7th birthday party,
When the colors and lights and noise turned you wild, high,
And when the giant pink expanse of cake appeared before her,
Dotted with the red melting candles,
Your breath exploded out of your lips
And swept out the flames,
Her eyes open before the mist had even settled,
Her wish cut off mid-sentence.
You were too young to understand the etiquette you’d violated,
But it was the first time you had seen her face crumple,
The first time the adults had looked at you with gravity,
Reflecting the power you had to shatter something so profoundly.