Mother wraps prayer beads
round her wrists.
She has just come from cathedral
and calls me into her chambers.
I kneel before her.
She finally speaks to me.
“I have been praying
over what to do with you, Maria.
You left a meeting with a suitor
without my consent.”
“I am sorry. I don’t know what—”
She raises her hand
like a shield and silences my words.
Tears trickle down her cheeks.
“You take none of this seriously.
I am failing you as a mother,
but worse I am failing your father.”
She dries her eyes.
“If you cannot make a match
with Signore Bembo,
I may have to send you to the convent.”