Small Enough by Anne Ramallo

I drive

with shoulders pulled

tight, like it will help

me fit on streets

too narrow

for two cars

to slide comfortably

past. On streets

where parked cars tuck

in mirrors, I hold    

my breath,

point my nose,

creep deliberately. 

Someone honks, speeding

in the opposite direction. 

"I'm tired of being small enough

to fit into my life!"

I erupt as yellow light

flares red.

"Me, too," says the little voice in the backseat.

Like me, she's short, and lately she's tired of waiting 

for her class to finish the assignment. 

She likes to break eggshells when we bake. 

Last night I traced the tension

through her neck and shoulders,

chased it where it dove at her clavicle.

My thumb knew the path it carved

through a body. I tried to press it smooth.

What do we hold in place by tying ourselves

into knots, feet hovering over brakes?

I want to show my girls how to overflow

our containers without drowning the world,

but I’m still asking questions.

Anne Ramallo is a writer, editor, performer, and mom living in Los Angeles. Her poetry and short fiction, have been featured in multiple journals and anthologies. She placed third in the national Pen Parentis 2026 Fellowship for parent writers. Anne is a co-founder of indie press Poets in the Pines, whose anthology Made From Midnight: a requiem released in 2025. Her chapbook, The Ocean In A Cup, is forthcoming. Keep up with her on Instagram @AnneRamallo.