there are different ways to say
scar tissue. pariah.
there were plenty of us—
I still feel sick when I come
even when it’s my husband.
I am called blank look.

they beat us,
& often
in certain textbooks
they say the government wanted
virgins to stave off venereal disease.
they gave me a modest sum.
I walk with a limp.
could be anyone—
& I am as muddy stream.
I want
to unfurl wings in rising flock.
I still remember the day I walked
warm
watching the reed-grass ripple,
before they caught me by the waist.

my name:
starling, wings clipped.
didn’t go by choice—
close to a man,
I am called grandmother.
shadow woman. blemished fruit,
wizened.
they sometimes used condoms—
washed between men.
they say we wanted to be prostitutes,
to prevent rape in the first place.
last year I finally asked to be paid.
but I am ashamed
my child’s true father
could now be a family man.
all sullied behind a smile. o
to be an eager finch again—
flurry of flight, sister untamed.
under sun among red fern fronds,

hibiscus sticky under palms—
before I stopped being a woman.