i was born with twelve fingers

like my mother and my daughter.

each of us

born wearing strange black gloves

extra baby fingers hanging over the sides of our cribs and

dipping into the milk.

somebody was afraid we would learn to cast spells

and our wonders were cut off

but they didn’t understand

the powerful memories of ghosts.  now

we take what we want

with invisible fingers

and we connect

my dead mother my live daughter and me

through our terrible shadowy hands.

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