Is Tarah

Restoration

Her body recounted memories,
Sharp, blunt, dirtying,
From years ago, unremitting…
When a stranger invited himself in.

Her baby couldn’t take it.
No song nor patting,
Could quell its crying…
So she did
What artistic faith decreed.

Ignoring the baby’s cringing pose,
She resolutely disrobed
And let strangers again probe
Her hurting pores…
Praying that they would
Restore the beauty of her core,
Deliver the needed cure.

With each breath that flowed…
She found her bareness swabbed
By cotton boll looks,
Rubbed by erasers that took
Darkness away, directing warm cascades
From lamp shades,
And when brushes
Blended her flesh with air sways…
She felt her baby becoming aware
That their nightmare
Would recur never!

– Bolbul