Anoint

in the waiting room, I watched women snap

rubber bands around their wrists, running

their hands through hair to tame thick flames

of want. & didn’t I understand, too,

this desire? its tide pressed in: some

days, a chalice; other days, a charm.

all summer long, my aunties pressed offerings

to my lips: jujube dates, porcelain bowls of

star anise and knotted herbs, pungent

& steaming. Drink this; Eat this; This will

heal the uterine muscle—my muscle gone silent,

emptied of speech. in the waiting room, we waited

to be told of our utility, listening again

as the automated fountain rang & rang with water.

in the parking lot, my aunts wrung their hands.

on the radio, another headline about a foreign

ambassador; a borderline; a wildfire come

& gone. somewhere, a field of flowers erupted

out of  black grass. inside, we crushed plastic

bottles of water and listened for our names.