NATIONAL POETRY DAY: Day 11

My great aunt's pearls 
are too long around my neck,
bouncing off my clavicle 
like tiny semi-circle promises. 

If I wear them loose
expectations choke me
as if the pearls were too tight
like a fashion statement. 

At the first garden party
where we decided to dress like
flappers, you let me dance around you
until my feet turned blue 

like the oxygen was gone,
even in the middle of the garden,
where everything was budding 
but heavy around my neck.