864 Readings


I was a woman before the war –
we took the arms of our enemies

and swung them from our crotches.
And lived with them there

until, like ticks, they grew inward, and we
were the first men. But we didn’t want

these stolen limbs anymore, and so tried
by force to give them back, hoping

the fists would come alive inside
women and grab hold. But when we were done

the arms only hung dumbly
between our tired legs, shrinking in time –

a useless door handle, a hung shadow
we walk upon.
Posted 06/01/11
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