[There are forces that twist the tops of us like pliers.]

There are forces that twist the tops of us like pliers.
I knew my mother by sound, with sound
my mother disowned me. In her head: mountains posing
as upturned vases (few ESTHERS in sight), decorative
grains of doubt.
I called on a Tuesday. I felt gutsy.

Through the pale receiver we discussed like things:
ambition, roaches, red blood cells.
Then a change came backward. She accused me
of leaving myself in another room, when
that sound reached me within that room
a white shape legislated itself. Chimes chimed.

I could no longer twist her in meaningful ways,
I lost her as a changing of scenery (she didn’t lose me)
—I am incapable of being lost. I simply spilled myself,
thin, glistening. A little sugar water in the synapses.
A little ESTHER stuck in the branches. We never owned a ladder,
though a few times I wanted to be found.

Copyright © 2026 by Leslie Sainz.

“This persona poem, which is part of a larger project, inhabits the voice of an American inspirational speaker, channeler, and author who denies the existence of systemic inequality and believes that everything that happens to us is a result of our thoughts and personal energetic frequencies. The line ‘Then a change came backward’ is borrowed from [John] Berryman’s ‘Dream Song 55.’” - Leslie Sainz

Leslie Sainz is the daughter of Cuban exiles. The author of Have You Been Long Enough at Table (Tin House, 2023), her work has been supported by the National Endowment for the Arts and CantoMundo, among other organizations. Winner of the 2024 Audre Lorde Prize for Lesbian Poetry, Sainz currently serves as the managing editor of the New England Review.