That Woman

by tishani doshi

that woman is here again
she's found her way out
from under the stairs
for centuries she's been weeping a song
about lost men,
the disappearance of beauty.

now she's back in the world
down by the traffic lights
n the shade of trees
hurryin to the parlour
to fix the crack in her face

don't become that woman
my mother said,
by which sje meant,
don't become that woman
who doesn't marry
or bear children

that woman who spreads her legs
who is beaten, who cannot hold,
her grief or her drink,

don't become that woman,

but that woman and I,
have been moving together for years,
like a pair of birds,
skimming the surface of water,
always close to the soft madness,
of coming undone.

the dark undersides of our bodies
indistinguishable
from our reflections.