Back to Issue Nineteen.

why i never wore my mother’s pearls



Because she wore cherries in her ears
instead of gold or stone or silver.

Because hers were heavier than fruit.
Because they made me want

milk we didn’t have. Because
of want. Because I couldn’t fit

the word, zhem-choog, in my mouth
and all that white reminded me too much

of teeth. Because we threw teeth
behind the stove so new ones

would grow in. Because sometimes
they didn’t. Because change is the only

certain beauty and strung-up
side by side, things ceased to be

as beautiful. Because holding
failed across continents and my mother’s

jewelry box stayed empty. Because leaving
meant she could only take one

necklace. Because the pearls, like teeth,
were left behind.

Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach holds an MFA in Poetry from the University of Oregon and is working on a Ph.D. at the University of Pennsylvania’s Comparative Literature & Literary Theory program where her research focuses on contemporary American poetry related to the Holocaust. Her poetry has appeared in Gulf Coast, TriQuarterly, Missouri Review, and Narrative Magazine, among others. She has received fellowships from the Bread Loaf and TENT Conferences as well as the Auschwitz Jewish Center. She is the author of The Bear Who Ate the Stars, winner of Split Lip Magazine‘s 2014 Uppercut Chapbook Award. Julia is also Editor-in-Chief of Construction Magazine.

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