一：sundress: a burning

mama, the sundress i should have worn at the tail of summer was torn before. by a button in the washer, a twig by the river, or a dog i adored. i felt something. i refused to deem it broken; i refused it to be a dry linen upon which there was no violation to kneel between the legs of a woman. mama, my body wanted to sew itself shut. if only i’d known my body was a prophet, had listened to you when you told me we bit our tongues for an evanescent hunger for meat. did you know, mama, i read it somewhere, neurons in our brains coordinate our jaws & tongues to prevent us from making a meal of ourselves? listen, there are 57 reasons why one would burn their lover. no. 1: i never loved anyone that much i didn’t know how. no. 9: maybe i wouldn’t have if you listened & stopped fighting. no. 23: stop fighting & we’ll have a good time. he tucked me in & left the door open: don’t let no bruises tell on me. at night, i cradled my bruises in shivers that lasted until morning. his laughs when i said no. his last text: who has a problem? he doesn’t remember touching me. mama, i believed him until i believed me. he drove me to the train station in the morning. he kissed my forehead: have a good time, sweetie. i had no hymen left. i hate to count casualties, to savor loss, to puncture things. i hate to have no hymns in me, but mama, god’s people hurt me. no. 33: if i was burning you, why wasn’t i burning, too? no. 57: you didn’t know why you deserved it—that’s why you deserved it. mama, i’m not okay. inside me is a burning twig & my ashen breaths only speak sound when they call your name, mama. i was touched so feverishly my dress was torn, mama. i was mistaken—i almost left. mama, i wanted to be loved.

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poetry-magazinesundress: a burning haibun

sundress: a burning haibun