INTERPRETATION X
Map
by Millicent Machell
When I was sixteen,
Every night before I slept
I would wind a silk scarf around my waist
And tie it so tight that it disappeared into my folds of flesh.
As time went on I used a larger cotton scarf
To tie over the top
So my torso seemed to be two halves -
Two squares of Lego connected with a careless gap in between.
Sometimes I think that those scarves held me together -
Bulging like meat through a butcher's string.
Or perhaps they were what split me apart
But they never broke my skin.
There's the faintest purple scar-band
That snakes around the skin of my waist
Slightly shiny, as if polished more times than the rest of me.
I wonder, when it fades completely, will that girl -
Cinching herself with all her strength -
Will she fade too? A painting too long in the sun.
And if she saw me writing this, would she take her mother's silver scissors
And cut the silk scarf in half?
I wonder.