coconut

I did not know, but now I think, coconut, my brown belly so round and my
baby inside, so white, my little ghost. So valuable, my husband thinks.
Money to change our lives. So much for her fingers, her arms, her heart. Poison her, my neighbor thinks, so much better now then to have her
disappear, gone. To know she is a lucky charm, that fishermen would weave her hair into their nets, miners wear her tiny bones from strings around their
necks. My little ghost. I hold her, wish her brown, safe as a coconut high
in a tree.