The Healer

 

One night a group of people sent
a woman to my house who wanted to touch

everyone. Her skin was dark, the moon’s
blue hues on her shoulders. She braided

my hair, and all through the night
her mouth moved

in another language. No sound came
from those lips. I tried

to understand, tried to move my lips
as soundlessly as her own for fear

of breaking glass. The woman untied my hair
and braided it again. By morning,

I opened my mouth, and a plague
of flies

was released.

 

 

Share