By nature, I was as Mother;
by nurture, I was as David.
It was the water that became thick with blood.
A shiney diney,
nestled in a twiggy wood—
like a silver bird egg,
awaiting a confused golden goose.
Over pie & coffee
we spoke of philosophy,
ancient religions, & dead languages.
Vibrantly alive, yet ashes of the past
poured from our mouths.
Through summer storms & winter’s blue,
through the fall & spring that never came,
Foster’s Diner stayed the same.
White chocolate with a dusting of cocoa
was how David described my skin.
I called him a gastronomer—
for I felt my freckles numbered the stars.
Logline for Because of Mindy Wiley: An Irish-Catholic girl coming of age in the Deep South during the New Millennium finds her family splintered when two Mormon missionaries come to her door, their presence and promise unearthing long-buried family secrets, which lead to her excommunication and exile.