I had a roommate once
she had skin like caramel
and she liked to tell us stories
One day after dinner we asked why she’d rather sit on the pavement to knit
while we drowned our sorrows in wine
She smiled like the sun on a dark day
her silver tooth twinkled like a star in the night sky
and she told us why-
“I was taught to hide my pain in knitted yarn
go for bright colours to show happiness
make melody on wool
I am half cast- that’s the Nigerian word for biracial
I used to say I’m half of my mother, half of my father
now I see myself as a knitted yarn
made of loom and loop,
full of each
I embody two cultures, two skin tones
I’m a confluence
I make them meet
one grandmother pounds me yam every Christmas
she teaches me to move my waist in the rhythm of the drums
the other teaches me country songs
she bought me a pony at sixteen
taught me the art of knitting
and named me sunflower”
that night- we knit a sunflower handkerchief
now when I try to fill the space in my life
I drop the wineglass for the knitting pin
Very nicely done. Thank you for writing this.