She told me her extremities
had never been more than
extensions of the depths of her torso
which served only the purpose of
pleasing men.
I wanted to trap her arms
in the constraints of security,
to encase her frame so tightly
within my grasp that she felt
no need to reach her limbs
out like twisted tree, like
broken branches supporting
he who lacked the assiduity
to be successful without her
lifting him up.
Like corpse on display in state,
she laid before me, eyes closed,
breath stopped, said "If I could
choose the moment God ended
my days on Earth without taking
my life myself, I would die here,
lying peacefully beside you
just so that I could be
resurrected into a body
which knew not touch
before."
I could smell the scent of coconut
when she reached her fingertips
up to brush aside the hair in my
eyes, whispered
through her battered lips,
and shaking teeth,
"I only feel conscious these days
when you read poetry to me,
so please write a poetic eulogy
for the life I'll leave behind
and one day I'll sit
smiling from chair in front of mic,
listen to you recite and know
that these extremities had
no need to move tonight.
I just want to feel alive."
