abused // dishonest
like red gardenia blushing.
his index finger slid
over my cheekbone.
once. naked. in full term.
a space where soft peels itself off the walls
smell of raw and sweet meat.
sweet meat open
like grandmother’s ash gourd garden.
his mouth climbed and slid
down my belly button.
claim. stamp. marked territory.
body crammed into unwelcoming body the walls
dig for unadulterated sapphire crystals.
sapphire crystals open
like ice broken clean down the middle.
his eyes slid
away silent after raking foolishly.
infidelity. dishonor. limp.
crawling on tips back into thorn bed the walls
finally stop muttering under their breath at dusk.
a photograph from my childhoo
i don’t remember how the photograph has too much
noise on it.
i suffered to be a daughter to a father
in a country i didn’t believe existed.
summer crawled slow on my spine
when i was five y/o and a leaf in the eye of abandonment.
the grayed center of a rose when
a door closes.
lack of sunlight.
crisp fresh only on the edge lines.
muffled moans echoing.
skin filthy skin
skin hurts and bleeds.
worn inside out red and virginal.
like church falling to its knees.
meryem nuh is a 20 y/o biracial, living in india. she writes poetry about being black, being woman, being muslim; culture and the self. her interests (obsessions) vary from cats to malcolm x. her work has appeared in vagabond city literary journal, the squawk back, sein und werden, and gravel; forthcoming in wildness. she works as a writer for qahwa project and is the editor-in-chief at artrefurbish. you can find her on her instagram, twitter and tumblr.