things my mother is scared of
thus cautions me about
by Sylvia Beato
polyester
skipping breakfast
running between the hours of one and three
drinking with strangers
hot sauce
what the neighbors say when they talk about you
questioning gender
dancing
not taking a sweater por si acaso
sushi
forgetting to remind us
how our grandmother scaled fish in winter
how her hands peeled and cracked
how they shriveled like claws and gripped your face
to kiss you