Being a Woman
Her eyes looked blankly at the world
the matted hair told a story of despair
Her cracked and mud-caked feet
Searched in vain for the way home.
Her mind loved to wander,
and always ended up in her mother’s room
Her nose twitched to inhale
the comforting scent of perfumes and silks.
Her mouth puckered in memory of
the sweet tartness of tamarind
Stored in huge white ceramic pots
in the coolness of dark cellars.
Her body cringed in horror
at the thought of that darkness
Her body and soul stripped bare
and trampled into the damp earth.
Her breath came in broken gasps
when her memories remorselessly took her
Back to those horrifying days of
feral whispers and greedy hands.
She quickly grabbed her mind
she hated it and its eagerness
To travel into a past of sunlight
and unbearable darkness of the soul.
She crumpled it and beat it down
and retreated quickly
Behind her wall of insanity,
the only way she could escape.