Vol 4 No 1 2010
Body Guard
When the baby came
it came in pieces: skull dropped
onto dirt where chickens scratch, limbs
fell between porcelain footsteps.
I recognized my daughter’s face
in its face. I covered it with a rag.
When the baby came, I tossed
the brain stem over the wall
of the tin outhouse. I drowned it
in the seashore next to Khmer girls
selling octopus skewers. I rubbed it
against my inner thighs. I named it Helen.
The bodyguard waited with a thin tissue,
handed it to me. I did not know what to do
with the tissue: wipe blood off my foot?
Wipe away another tear?
Life begins with lovemaking
and ends. I smudged her
into my husband’s palm.
Catherine Strisik