I was fourteen, and starting to decompose faster
the water spilled
over the years,
over her body
like a plague of ants.
Already kneeling in the mud
I could feel my body being stretched out
nipples aching, labia swelling
it drove its way in,
with a silent battering ram
and swords of silk.
you were the first time
I felt the touch of death
between my legs
oh, hateful –
but grateful she was
that the stone struck when it did.
a cry of despair,
like when I was nine,
lying on the hard parquet floor of the living room
cupping my breasts,
trying to push the knots back in
I’m just a child! I’m just a child!
she lifted dead hands
in praise of her protector,
for protect her he had,
and as layers of dirt built up,
I threw rocks after boys
who came yelling my name
she…
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