Girls That Never Die

In honor of National Poetry Month, month of cold new blooms in the Northern Hemisphere where I read and write, I present a bouquet of lines from Girls That Never Die by Safia Elhillo (page numbers noted below):

My mother is almost my mother now, 

That night, metal of the fire escape against my bare legs, I accepted 

the girl who became my grandmother          brows & body rounded & cursive like arabic 

Because I am their daughter my body is not mine. 

the ocean froths over my thighs 

 

                                              who hurt you            who hurt you

 

my languages             my ligatures  smoke in my loosened hair 

i place inside me figs & nectarines, gnarled tomatoes 

The blood comes & comes 

imagining a girl          imagine nothing is done to her 

& become a hazard, meaning danger but also meaning 

i formed a body to be left behind 

i wear the dead girl’s clothes 

i misplace my homeland    mispronounce my mother 

what small freedoms could I exchange for my name for my Name 

& the minutes pass & the girl is untouched 

Page numbers, in order of appearance: 4, 8, 13, 21, 23, 27, 41, 51, 64, 67, 75, 91, 93, 95, 105, 113