For the Sun of your Skin

it girl

i travelled back across the ocean

the safaris roar and a head filled with lovesick notions

back where i belong, in the hands of my mother,

the mother of my mother

in her hands the broken things in me are no bother

my scars mended with henna and gold by the hands of my potter

i watched her trembling hands as she peeled me mangos, asking if i forgot her

i kiss her and whisper that in my prayers she commands every verse

i fell asleep that night and dreamt a terrible dream

i was looking at the face of my mother and another

my mothers faced covered in tears as i lay smothered

i can't move, always a weak and frail little thing

her song is a cry, what a twisted little child, we must clip her little wings

the woman at my feet is evil there's something broken in her snare

i kick her in the face and blood spurts everywhere

my white dress is painted scarlet

do this or be a harlot

and then she cut me down there

barely seven and im broken

and mama stood and just stared

in my head it plays over and over

if this is a dream why haven't i woken?

my innocence you've stolen

and the womanhood you grant is a pathetic

little token

keep your prophecies and omens

let me wake and be unbroken

know the horse is a trojan

see the lies that they've woven

drown myself in these potions

now i know why i'm broken

why my heart has been frozen

why i'm numb to emotion

on you're knees, blissful devotion

white dress painted scarlet, a thorny rose bruised like violets

i'll be your saint be your harlot

let blood colour my thighs once more, bear a fruit for a harvest

and this power i'll harness

rose from our matrimonial bed and the river of my home i ablute the garment

dust of cloves and cumin fill the air

hands painted with coriander

as i touch this knife i can't help remember

i listen to your sad hymn, one of your tragic lovesick poems, flipping pita after pita

an art form i could never temper, you tell me it won't be a pity with a face that pretty

a siren call, so haunting, and a face just like mine, father said he knew under that beauty lay a tempest

you dropped a white towel and i dreamt it caught fire

and burned it all down, down, down

do you remember, that starless night of december, you must remember

you can't have forgotten all the blood as i lay there, a ghost of your making, a puppet that was in your name dismembered

you have to remember

you don't have the right to try and forget when im forced to remember

swallow the petals in my mouth, tired of this old as time argument, I render my arms and surrender

perfect girl, a smile of splendour

be a rose not a tempest

better tame daddy's temper