Yasmeen

i was born
at the rupture the root where
i split from my parallel self? i split from
the girl i also could have been
& her name / easy / i know the story
all her life / my mother wanted
a girl named for a flower
whose oil scents all
our mothers /
petals wrung
for their perfumei was planted
land became ocean became land anew
its shape refusing root in my fallow mouth
cleaving my life neatly
& my name / taken from a dead woman
to remember / to fill an aperture with
cut jasmine in a bowl
our longing
our mothers'
wilting
garlands hanging from our necks