I probably should have been born at a time when orphan and rambunctious girls were sent to a convent to live with each other in the moutains

How I love the sun and the shade,

how I thrive in loose overalls, dirt under my nails—

tending beans, feeding animals,

and the hush. Blessed, holy hush.

I like to think the convents were full

of girls like us,

touching, curious,

not calling it sin or salvation—just

Sister, Sister—

after a day of prayer and sweat,

I want to lie beside you,

on top of you,

pressing our tired bodies together

in this straw-filled bed.

Our vow of silence won’t let us

voice even a trace of shame—

Just the quiet we cherish,

and the promise:

tomorrow,

more gardens,

more prayers.

We shall live here forever

till we die as good pilgrims—

buried next to each other

behind the chapel

where we met.