My body is a member of my chosen family 
I found it when I first hit puberty 
We spoke at the same exact moment 
Soft and rough, honesty rose from our lungs 
 
My body gave me the word
Clothing did not pass it on to me
Accessories did not gift it freely
My family pulled it from our depths
 
The word that lit us on fire 
Shaking in our bed 
Talking to my sisters
As a sister. 
 
My body is a father’s daughter 
I am a mother’s unfinished conversation 
Talking to other women in the family 
Talking about the family as if we all share the only one.