Wonders how her torn vulva
became the color of her sister’s lips.
She makes up riddles:
What is stubborn as a leaf
that stays on the tree
all winter?
What is foolish as a girl
who makes a wish
on someone else’s eyelash?
What is slicker than ice,
softer than a woman’s thigh,
and quicker than a clock?
She tries an ode:
O red life, O broken, broken fist!
But the heart won’t soothe.
It won’t fall back in love.