seams and stitching ♡ published

THE GIRLS - PART FOUR - EDEN

eden
oh eden
did you think they would stay?
eden, you never knew me
you used to dance on
picnic tables in the park, you used to
pull your shirt over your head
and sing for los matones
people told you not to and
you did not listen
oh eden, did you think you
were special? did you think
they would stay?
you were wrong
they would walk miles to your house
throw rocks at your window
and call out your name
eden, eden, eden
called your body a holy garden
to them your name was not
just a name
your breasts were forbidden fruit
the space between your legs
where the sweetest juice
would run from
they savored your taste on
their tongues, then grew tired of
you and left
after you they all re-named
themselves, said they had
conquered you
said they were God
eden you made them feel like
they had power; did you really think
they would stay?
los matones would stand on
the corner and shout down the street
about how easy you were,
but still, how good you tasted
los maridos would whisper to
themselves after their wives
were asleep, how easy you were,
but still how young
and good you tasted
eden, did your little sister know?
how could she know of the
legacy she had to live up to?
los maridos and matones alike
watched her walk to school
each morning, waiting for her
to grow into her body, into you
eden, she could not have known
it was not her fault, that she had
the same lips as you
that the catcalls followed her down
blocks, that the men and boys
called her little eden,
little garden girl
she was a virgin, she had not yet
grown into that mouth,
grown into those hips, that waist
did you ever wonder what your
moans did to her?
eden, your sister watched you
pull your shirt over your head and
heard you sing for
los matones, los maridos
could you have known?
oh, what your sister
would one day do
with that mouth, those hips,
that waist, whose hands
would clasp around that throat,
whose voice would
tell her to keep singing,
even as he choked her
could you have know, eden?
and if you could have, would you
have stepped down from
that picnic table, kept the shirt on, closed your mouth
and never have sung?
or would you have taught her
how to hit the perfect note?
how to cover her teeth
with her lips, how to be gentle,
how to be young and good
against the tongue?
would you have taught her,
eden, how to worship los matones,
how to worship los maridos,
like the gods they said they were?
oh eden, i saw your sister
on the street the other day, her throat
a creamy turret, her mouth
a bloody red mistake
she has grown into her body
into a little eden
what is her real name?
oh, does it even matter; they'll
only ever call her your's
los maridos snuck glances
when their wives had turned
the other way, and los matones
were waiting on the corner;
you know, eden,
i don't think they'll
have to wait much longer.