my mother taught me

that a sentence should not end with a because because because is a conjunction. but with the onset of my rebel ages, i tarnished my knuckles rufous and crumbled my knees on the floor because. i leashed my lungs with fire and salt and wind that blew north because. i ruched honeyed skin to my ribs because. i welled my eyes with the brininess of a fading lover because. i uprooted houseplants and filled their pots with synthetic vinegar because. i dipped my head in the river to breathe another ecosystem because. i sandpapered the pantry door and mopped the garage floor on sundays because. i turned my vertebrae into a rosary of knotted remorse and felicity because. i harmonized with the verses of the church and the ghosts because. i freighted the local newspaper’s obituary with my minuscule name because. i breathed life into the ashes of my will to ignite a dying ember and inhaled once, twice, and a billion other times because.

Ann Lilly Jose is a literary fiction writer and poet from Kerala, India. Her work revolves around the politics of youth, identity, individuality, innocence, and grief. Her poetry has previously appeared in 12pointfont.com and Poems India.