Habla no Husband  #154
January 31, 2003


"You're supposed to have
a husband by now
so I wouldn't have to
take care of you,"
she said.

My feet packed on ice
my hands gripping the
arms of the wheelchair
I can feel the
tears stinging
down the cheeks
of my face.

Even my mother quick
to point out
the unloved;
a bruised apple;
a disregarded woman
who no longer
needs to be
reminded.