family ties: my good fortune | Amanda Oaks

avocados sit ripening
on the table, now
quiet this morning, still
full of fingerprints
from last night’s
meal, branches
scraping the surface,
your tiny feet– roots
dangling from your chair

you began way before
my head found the alcove
of your father’s neck, words
floating on breath before
we even met

you both
were the thread
i sat winding around
wooden spools at my
grandmother’s feet,
strung so tight it’d
leave a lateral line
across my thumb, where
if examined closely
you’d find our names–
riddles,

riding on
the spiral of
my fingerprint

–
© amanda oaks