Edmonia can keep secrets. She doesn’t speak
of her father, who, not long before her mother died,
left Edmonia with brown skin, round eyes, a wide mouth,
and not one memory. Still, his name is part of hers.
She won’t speak of manitous, good spirits
who may stay within stone, but might warn
with a cracking branch. Her aunts taught her much
that they warned could be ruined by revelation.
Edmonia won’t won’t even whisper what her aunts held close.
But she wishes she could hint about the kiss
to the girls who share a room upstairs. Helen and Christine
like tales of forbidden romance: Romeo and Juliet
defying their families, Hiawatha and Minnehaha
marrying despite fighting between Ojibwe and Sioux,
Cleopatra luring a Roman into a barge
filled with gold and roses, forgetting
her country, careless that she was queen.