Final Performance Poem by Cynthia Cruz
Final Performance
I crawl along the wet floor
Of my mother's childhood,
A serpent, or a long-buried secret,
In my mother's bisque
Chiffon gown with small stars
Stitched in silver, a crown
Of tinsel pinned into the dark
Blonde knots and dreads of my hair.
I follow a sequin thread of dead
Things, stop when the moon clocks out,
Polish my long nails in the sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/11/2026 10:21:27 AM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
