XI
|
LETTER TO HER RAPIST
I know you think it isn’t fair I call you that You have a different memory found the girl and flipped her on her back and instead of woman-parts a scorpion’s tail then she started before your eyes, stinging herself until the poison inflamed her so badly you tried to take it out with your mouth You think your crimes are mutable I’m here to tell you you ruined everything I have heard this poem before. Men parade their lovers’ scars into the public square demand credit for their own bravery. Somewhere a child kisses a mirror and another child shoves a pin through her own face in a photograph and I’m here talking like it’s a story about my own suffering But listen She’s maybe the only person who has ever loved me and now I have this thread of fire left in my brain that says she could have loved me if it hadn’t happened if you hadn’t been inside holding shut the door. |