he was always hurting my mother/ with his
fists & his silences/ he rarely spoke to
me/ but at night/ when he was drunk/ he
came into my bedroom to tell me stories/
he told me about how i was a bitch demon/
& about how my mother had wrapped her
thighs around six hundred men/ her
enlarged vagina diseased & dripping with
semen/
he told me over & over again/
unti i was frightened to fall asleep/ in
case he thought i wasn't listening/ & was
forced to repeat the story all over
again/
he wouldn't let me sleep/ he
wouldn't leave me alone to dream a child's
dreams/ he told me stories until i could
almost see my mother's vagina towering
above me/ threatening to smother me/
until i could almost hear the flies/ my
mind flashed from goodness to evil/ from
purity to corruption/ from cloud white to
jagged black/ as i struggled again not to
drift into sleep/
i could hear my father's
voice invading my dreams/ i could almost
smell the poison that he placed inside
me/ & although the room was light/ part
of me switched off from his words &
became dark/
i placed my thumb in my
mouth beneath the blankets/ & swore to
myself that i was feeding from my mother's
breast/ at five years of age/ i knew my
mother better than him/
because i am
woman/ & within the darkness of my mind/
i know my mother's womb is bursting like
a mountainside/ & her vagina is warm &
pink/ folding in at night like a flower
