propagation

j.b.

The boy who sits across from me 

Unsheathes his blade and slits my throat, he

Bathes himself in my blood then

Writes his name on my body—my

Left thigh belongs to him 

Marked by his hand, he 

Mixes my blood with water and 

Offers me to the gods.

The knight with the green eyes 

Takes everything that remains, he 

writes his name upon my

Breasts and claims them as his.

The man in the castle coaxes

My sweet name from me,

I regurgitate nectar onto a sticky floor, he

Draws out my soul from my mouth, he

Decomposes my name into letters,

Rearranges them into a 

Vulgarity he calls a gift. 

I do not know my name. 

They steal parts, expecting to be fulfilled. 

Men don’t know that 

Girls can’t regrow like plants, 

But still they botch me 

But still they salivate over fractions 

Divided over and over and

I wonder what it’s like to grow roots.

I wonder how it is to be whole.