All my sexual days I am
a virgin
Eunuched by habit, not
by choice
I wear the cloth of my
lovelessness
Whitely, they say with a
cross
Hanging from my neck
Like a noose, but it is
not this
That kills. Strapped to
my waist is
A rope that could. Its
girth
Is a halo of thread
binding up the mess
Of me: austere ribbon,
It keeps my pious shift
In place, my tummy
Hourglass – slim
And time is cruelest to
a woman at vespers
Strangled at the crux
Where her womb lies
Entombed,
She is handmaid
To no man.
At the hour of twilight
She hymns,
And hymns alone.
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