I believe in the belief of you,
numb-kneed women hunched
like commas over the cap rail,
smelling of dry tears and talcum,
fingers basket-woven, or men
bent slightly at the middle
like folded playing cards, heads
hung, the mumblings of their prayers
like the humming of bees deep
in the bowels of some flower,
or church bells in Rome let loose
all at once that seem to open
the throat of something inside of me.
If I have felt your hot breath
against my neck, tossed coins
into the basket, shuffled toward
the wafer with outstretched hand,
if I have gloried you, eye-wondered
an amaranth-washed horizon,
a cloud’s water and flame,
it is because I too have curled
on hard tile, fingers curved
into asterisks, kissed my own
nothingness on the mouth.
My Mother Asks If I Believe in You
by Beth Gylys
Award-winning writer, Distinguished Professor at Georgia State University, and co-founder and Principal Investigator of Beyond Bars, a literary magazine edited by and created for incarcerated writers and artists, Beth Gylys has published five books of poetry and four chapbooks. Her last two full-length collections (The Conversation Turns to Wide Mouth Jars—co-written with Cathy Carlisi and Jennifer Wheelock—and Body Braille) were both named Books All Georgians Should Read. Her poetry has recently appeared in the Birmingham Poetry Review, The James Dickey Review, SWWIM and on the Best American Poetry blog. Her most recent chapbook, Your Own Sky: A Book of Breakups is available from Small Harbor Press.