An Odd Number

An odd number of cousins
Would have been just right
Around the dinner table

A perfect circle
A six pointed star
(Minus a few too many X chromosomes)

Really, how can I possibly compare
To those I do not share biology with?

I cannot ask the four questions
With such a soft voice

I cannot rip challah
With such dainty fingers

I cannot bless wine
Because according to you
Adonai lives
At the head of the dinner table

If only necks
Could think for themselves

Bubbie lights Shabbat candles
And you rush through her prayers

I sat in the back row
At all of your bar mitzvahs

And still don’t know
What it means to be a woman