a serpent stunted our growth (or expedited it)

a poem

Oh, for the love of girlhood.

For the love of God.

For lace tights and swollen lips, nectarine spit and five hail Marys.

When did the green grapes during afternoon tea turn into wine flush? When did God forsake us? Or when did we forsake Him?

My girls – meet me by the river for a dance, just one. Let us proclaim how we darlings, angels, pets forged from earth and sweat, and pure ecstasy maybe aren’t so pure.

I took a bite from the apple and so did she, dusted with cinnamon, drowned in honey and baked till tender.

Now our pigtails come out in chunks, and we apply blush and glitter to cover our rot. Here, take a tooth, have my blood, possess me however you’d like.

Scraped knees to bruised knees, and I guess it’s a curse. How can I ever be a woman when they only love the girl?