It Follows me like a shadow,
clings to me like my own skin,
rides my back until I break in
two—I’m a mule to the shame.
In the shower, I scrub off the
film of his semen in scalding
water until my inner thighs
blister. I feel like Jell-O. Police
will know I orgasmed. He’ll say
I wanted it—maybe I did. I see
why tribal cultures circumcise
girls—to keep us from being
whores. Carve out my clitoris
with non-sterile obsidian blade.
Wrap me in gauze, loose enough
to conceal the curve of my hips.
© 2016 Nortina Simmons
Written for Frau Paulchen’s Lyrik Monat, which translates from German to Mrs. Paulchen’s Poetry Month. Today’s prompt is: “film title.”
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