I
crook of her elbow, heeled knead of her hand
flattens like smooth hull—billows yeasty sails
pale knuckles tugging taut saran wrap skin,
Nena2 is all rose petal, wood cedar.
her voice softens, laundered faded cotton.
find her sweet lilt in her floral curtains
in crisp folds of her fragrance-laden blouse
find her visage in ceramic teapots
swooping spouts and porcelain filxhanë3
I find her bleeding heart wittled and flayed
in the carved wooden shqiponjë4 that she keeps
imposingly poised and dusted, top shelf.
aged hands that soap petaled fine china rims,
that peel and shrug coats of sweet boiled chestnuts,
pare saccharine frills of orange petticoats;
cornstarch sleeps in the bed of her fingernails
remnant bygone summers flit in her eyes.
powdered weathered palm blankets girlish hands
fingers like running water, skin of wax.
my torn peta5
sobs in flour smudged fear
—a cobwebbed feeble childish mimicry.
she drapes it across the back of her hands
a lacy veil kissing sharp pristine wedding ring
dusts off speckled black shawl, black apron, black
pleated dress, where at night she is cloistered
worrying thirty-three oak prayer beads.
her touch is a smoothed caress, silk on glass
she crimps its thin frayed edges just the same.
II
nacre-beaded brow, sheen like onion tunic
summer’s dew dribbles from out glassy eyes
traces the harsh slope of your nose, maps the
sharp jade cliff of your shoulder blade dropping
laves your spine as tidepool meets aching shore.
sun kisses black pine-casted cordate shade
on your sun warmed cheek, like hot idle stone,
filters across edge of dark cropped hair
eclipsed—golden and blinding solar crown.
breeze murmurs sweet nothings upon your nape
cups the conch of your ear with tepid palms
plucks and keeps a well-pleated daisy, still
white after years between wedding gown folds.
1. Month of August
2. Term of endearment used for grandmothers; also, mother
3. Tea cups
4. Eagle, nominative singular
5. Phyllo dough sheets
Emma Kraja is a young author and illustrator and is currently a senior at Staten Island Technical High School in New York. She is a New York Times Coming of Age winner with many publications as well as a writer for Teen Magazine. Penning pieces often centered around prevalent social issues and cultural identity, Emma Kraja has always found a creative outlet in poetry. Her own family immigrated from Albania following the downfall of the autocratic regime, and this is reflected in her poems, paying tribute to her cultural identity and her childhood.