Once
in the field of his alien bedroom,
i was taken by the wrist
by a disembodied hand that looked
like mine.
-
it pushed me down into his drowning
lust, broke open
my chest and helped him pour
his terror into me
-
as if my body needed
anything, as if my heart
weren’t full enough
with blood.
-
so many little girls are eaten whole,
raised up by others’ arms
to eucharist-rich mouths,
-
then slowly re-devoured
by the rose-blushed sickly
acids from within.
-
some of us are pierced, though,
pressed to cracking by
familiar little palms
-
eggs on easter to be tapped
and drained, not eaten—
-
just emptied and then
painted and then
hidden.
