I know you know how to shame into obedience the long chain tethering lawnmower to fence. And in your garden are no chrysanthemums, no hem of lace from the headscarf I loose for him at my choosing. Around my throat still twines a thin line from when, in another life, I was guillotined. I know you know how to slap a child across the face with a sandal. Forgive me. I love when he tells me to be the water you siphon into the roots of your trees. In that life, I was your enemy and silverleaf. In this one, the child you struck was me. Copyright © 2017 Tarfia Faizullah. Used with permission of the author. |
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