the performer’s daughter | a poem with a finishing touch

when he strengthened himself

through her body

she killed his remains within her

until their daughter was born


her smile sank deeper into her body

until she couldn’t catch it anymore


her face became unknowable to herself

and she accentuated what she thought she still knew to be true


my mother’s cheeks

pale rouge


silence is the most misinterpreted

and abused incapability of action


I put the meaning of my silence in the wrong hands


whoever rejoices if a girl can’t say a thing

open her mouth

has already revealed their cards

and they were never laid bare in her favour

you will take it,

too late,

even though nothing has happened yet –

now you want it

Photo by Loc Dang on

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