In America, my hair grows to my waist. Breasts swell.
My tongue mothers a language-unruly.
You scold me, Don’t you dare. O, I dare.
I snatch every glinting bauble, stroke pine bark, crack acorns
in my palms. Kiss forbidden boys. Let slime slide down my back.
My high heels buckle. Ankles bleed.
My mouth, half-sewn, splits to sing.
Lessons in Obedience
To be a good daughter- only a dream: to savor shame like sugar.
I peel an orange, take in seed, rind, pith- every trace of venom, heed street signs, blend with the crowd gathered for a hanging, watch the stool kick loose under her feet.
A good daughter never asks: Why kill me?
-- Leila Farjami is an Iranian-American poet and psychotherapist. Her debut collection, Daughter of Salt (Trio House Press, 2026), received the Editor’s Selection. She has won The Iowa Review Award, The Cincinnati Review’s Schiff Award, and a PEN America Emerging Voices Fellowship, and was runner-up for the Auburn Witness Prize. A Pushcart nominee, her work appears or is forthcoming in Ploughshares, The Iowa Review, AGNI, Pleiades, among others. She serves as guest poetry editor for Rowayat.