Angels

She says her name is Gallila, the woman

fully dressed in the sauna, sitting on the

top row, singing along with her headphones.

As if unaffected, I lie on the on the lowest,

a wet rag on my head. My mom sits near,

we are barely breathing.

I want to leave, I want to feel a cool breeze,

but I make myself stay. I tell myself it's like

a sweat lodge. I tell myself I need release.

She sees my mom massaging

her knee, are you ok?

They talk about knee replacements

and hyaluronic acid injections and

some supplement her husband bought

at Costco. He swears it helps, she

promises

I'll pray for you, she promises, and my

mom says thank you and they talk about

the power of prayer and the religion

they share

I am from Ethiopa, she says

I tell her I love Amharic, the script,

the sound of the vowels, but say I

don't think I could ever speak it, she

teaches me how to say a most important

word, thank you  

ameseginalehu

are you a teacher? no she is a chef and

I tell her I love injera and berbere, love

eating with my hands, love sharing plates

love is most important word too

tears fill the corners of my eyes and

she smiles as if she knows but how

could she know

that what I needed was not release

but embrace, a whispered reminder

that angels still walk amongst us