Muna told us of the day she came home
to find her father transformed into the men
who sit in tea shops chewing qat, their faces bulging on one side,
hard and round, their teeth peppered with pieces of stalk,
their spit stained green.
her lips were swollen from birth.
playgrounds were cruel then,
she ran home every day from missiles of
hey soup cooler, wanna try me instead?
it was her science project she was thinking of
and whether Adam would beat her record in tether ball.
abo, she cried out, I need to go to the hospital!
why he asked, stretched languidly against the large, ethopian pillows
on the persian carpet her mother bought with her GST return.
her fear crushed the embarrassment she felt,
so she showed him her underwear
stained brown.
ooof he said, his face scrunched small in disgust
do I look like I have hips that can bear children?
go ask your mother.
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