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 Pexels.com

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