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Poetry | August 2004

The Carol Lawrence School of Dance

By Carol Graser

Our girls tutu in adjacent rooms
Princess costumes
varieties of ruffled pink
The right size still won’t fit
in their age of pre-
(pre-school, pre-constraint
pre-smooth, pre-obey)
Charming tumblers earning praise
for tiptoes
one behind the other

A mother’s room to watch and wait
is skinny
filled with next babies
nestled in arms and wombs
We shuffle for views
our daughters’ new step
Conversation
like breast milk laced
with dinner’s garlic
spills around
thin and strangely sweet
Always the same
always something of what we need

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