Glass: A Journal of Poetry Volume One Issue Three       


Weam Namou

My Brother’s Wife  
 
She brought along clothes, high heels and gold
But no resumes or diplomas
Her magistrate was in her glance, her touch,
Her movements

Her name is Zena
Translation: decoration
She entered our home in autumn
Inhabited the fourth and largest chamber

She fried tomatoes using extra care
Mopped each ceramic in fine detail
Climbed the stairs with passion
Looked at my brother with patience

Watching her perform, I found surrender was her name
Mine, intelligence
She tiptoed closer to my space
Smelled disinterest and ran the other way

One day she slipped between the crack of my bedroom door
And gave me her dress to keep
I wore it and recalled what it is to please
I borrowed the depth of her life's embrace
Then gave the dress to my sister.