my hands as I wait for the water to warm
 

by the hour
my therapist's
jelly beans
 

Black Friday

I return my baby sister to her group home.
Her two-day visit, a steady cycle of medications,
cigarettes, and eating. Our discussion of an early death
ends with a goodbye shrug. I roam the mall alone among
the grinning and shopping. Digesting the notion of family, my thoughts
turn to my nephew in his little prison of a dismal apartment—
my big sister, his warden. I don’t like child prisons so I don’t visit much.

Thanksgiving
the in-laws eat
and leave