I was born from a womb swollen with guilt, the stain of sin
a blood moon on my bowed head, the umbilical cord a rosary
snaked around my unclean body, threatening to choke me,
tying me to my mother's sins and her mother's sins and the sins
of all mothers, and I am a mother, my sins like bruises dark as eve
on my soul, and I kiss calloused feet, wipe away my blood and tears,
and beg forgiveness from those who would call me whore.
Lisa L. Weber resides in San Diego with her husband, son, and lovable dog. Her work has appeared in Anti-Heroin Chic, The Ginger Collect, and Memoir Mixtapes. You can follow her on Twitter @LisaLermaWeber