I am not good
and sometimes I can’t
comprehend your goodness–the faint tea stains on your teeth, yellow optimism always in your mouth, your laundry-scent.  Loving your neighbor and your (good God) mother.
She tells you
I am not good,
but I already know.
I am the woman
drawing water;
I’ll lay down
at the foot
of your childhood
I might
cut your hair
in your sleep.

About Jordan: Jordan Godfrey works in communications for a public school district in Northwest Arkansas, where she moved after completing her BA in English at Oklahoma Baptist University.  She recently attended the Sewanee Writers’ Conference for poetry.