Before she died, I never knew her skin.
For
him, my love thief, my womanliness
wasn’t
innocent. His body melted within me
to be
reborn through my vagina. My heart,
the black hole,
the black hole,
was
quenched by the serenity of his eye.
I enthralled
the whole.
I had
not remembered the cadence of her heart
and
softness of her womb was his first touch,
nor had I remembered
the sultriness
of her life giving vagina was his second.
of her life giving vagina was his second.
My
womb shrank and shrank; became nothing.
2014
© Subhadra Jayasundara
