papRika

Let men be men, demands the man, and mark
the confidence in his request, his musk
still trailing far behind where dampening dark

has settled heavy stones to shape decay:
the dents defined in moss, once supple life,
her amber bracelet stains the skin turned grey

where bones show wrist aligned with womb now raped
by rock, in shallow cave – where men would not
let her be woman – this eternal girl-shaped

depression in a sandy grave; where carpal
and tarsal roll like pebbles discarded, split,
disturbed, by more than an animal

who would not leave intact the girl,
but ground, and ground her into gravel.

© Sara Dias

Tags: Poems // Add Comment »