Lanat Abad / The Place of the Damned
this mangy plot where
by now
only mothers still come,
only mothers guard the nameless plots
•
and then sparingly
•
Peepholes burnt through the metal doors
of their solitary cells,
•
just large enough
for three fingers to curl out
for a lemon to pass through
for an ear to be held against
for one eye then the other
to regard the hallway
to regard the cell and inmate
•
peepholes without a lens
so when the guard comes to inspect me,
I inspect him.
Touch me, he said.
•
And through that opening
I did.
