Once, I was a sack of sugar

by Jennifer McKeen Rodrigues

my mother carried around
soft & heavy on the bottom
I would crinkle & shift
in her young, tan arms
if I was set down I’d lean in-
coherently to the side

my mother carried me against
her chest until
her arms got tired &
this nonsense made her plunk
me down in the rocking chair
where my fine grains of addict-
ion shifted back & forth, then
I’d tumble head first onto the
floor

I used to choke my mother
all my sweetness over-
flowing from her mouth
past her cheeks into her ears
as we lay on the floor in a heap
me, a burden
her, a woman who only took sugar
in her sweet tea

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Jennifer McKeen Rodrigues (she/her) lives on Powhatan land of Fairfax, VA, is a trauma-informed yoga therapist, a queer & neurodivergent military spouse, & a mom. Her poetry or photography has featured in Passengers, Susurrus, FERAL, The Jelly Bucket, Mid-Atlantic Review, Paper Dragon, America’s Future anthology by WWPH, & several military anthologies, & her debut chapbook, Estate Sale, is forthcoming (2025) with Kelsay Books.