THE JUST-BLED GIRL REFUSES TO SPEAK
The entire red carnation in my mouth.
Like any panicked schoolgirl, I’m inarticulate
and constantly introduced
to beautiful things. Today it’s a doctor
who says, Young La-dy! and demands,
Young La-dy, you cannot keep that garden
in your throat. How will we ask you question?
How will you sip from the glass of water
and tell us what he did to you? Softly I slip
the red carnation further into my throat.
There must be hundreds
of ways to be a girl. I’m just the kind
who has trouble parting her lips.