Every time I open my mouth
You rip out my womb a little further
I become as barren
As a November Sunday afternoon
My words severed
By your blade of silence
Your gaze reduces woman
To form of a symbol
Like a child bride
Groomed to perform
Acts against her nature
Or a virgin suicide
Wrought
By the penetrating power
Of men’s inequitable ideology
Tied to our conjugal bed
Your fist of masculinity
P
L
U
N
G
E
S
Into the clenched behind
Of my heart unbound
But, no one hears my cries
For my mouth is gagged
And my tears are invisible
To all other empirical, “I’s”
Thus, I bleed for womankind
For Magdalene, Christ’s castigated lover
For Malala
Awarded a prize
For surviving
Her own attempted homicide
-A trophy voice
Which, of course
She possessed, anyway
I bleed and plead
But no one sees or hears me
For like a maiden aunt
I have been castrated by mankind
Left to rot on the shelf
With the other unconsumed
Unconsummated perishables
Past my sell by date
Putrefying with middle-age
And disconnected femininity