when faouzia said the butterfly effect is crazy because if she'd chosen to be someone's wife she'd have never performed again and it makes me think about my aunt who sings my name when i visit, her voice fills her husband's kitchen like my wind chimes in the morning. would she—given a mic and a person to listen—have been somewhere better, somewhere she could wear her nails longer and her hair down in braids and her lace dress with its long flowy sleeves? Would she have sung under a thousand spotlights instead of the stark white bulb in the kitchen, would the burn marks be replaced by henna, would her face have streaks of glitter instead of flour would she have been happier











