Women

 My three sisters are sitting

on rocks of black obsidian.

For the first time, in this light, I can see who they are.

My first sister is sewing her costume for the procession.

She is going as the Transparent lady

and all her nerves will be visible.

My second sister is also sewing,

at the seam over her heart which has never healed entirely,

At last, she hopes, this tightness in her chest will ease.

My third sister is gazing

at a dark-red crust spreading westward far out on the sea.

Her stockings are torn but she is beautiful.