In the gun cabinet, two playgrounds
one for me, one for mother
two men approach
from the fences
in the gun cabinet, a hand
my body, his body
inside her, then blackout
in the gun cabinet
I say he touched me [I am acted on]
I say he grabbed me [the body acted on]
[they ask me where] I show them [she starts crying]
I say it hurt [the act itself]
I say he hurt me [his body acted]
I say through acting [his hand] he hurt me
& implicitly I understood it was more than an act
Not meanness
Not violence (though it felt so) not thought
but something else, crushing
fear, transference, that
[in his smile] of which he thought [through me]
he could rid himself
[& his teeth while he did it] [why he only went so far]
& then finding that which he carried
[through his own mass] could not be relieved
finding his hand repeatedly upon me could not
he withdrew
each time
& now, when she speaks to me
I can feel it, the story
her mother never told her (she remembered, then asked)
I can’t know (her silence) (which now contains itself) but reason
(from here, remember): inescapable fact of my body here, inescapable fact
of his & how it acted (he
transposed himself on her) & here
I ask myself if I should (I know I could)
(with all my reason) move myself through my idea
of him to forge a dialogue, because (go ahead) (reason only
goes so far) the mind requires power over not only others but its own
experience & so her five brothers & father, after bringing her to my grandmother
after drawing her a bath (not taking her to the hospital) found purpose (asking her What
does he look like How tall What color What did he speak)
in finding him on the other side of the fence near the ravine, at its edge, after asking
him
(god knows what) of his mind (his body silent) (as if) (they expected a reason) to answer their questions
they set reason aside & lay their bodies (hands & feet &) the extensions of their bodies into his like a cleansing