Never a human
I washed my hands as a murderer washes the blood
I did so to erase the traces of crimes
I am no more a criminal
To steal a just born premature; of a black woman; ‘what human does’
That is in the name of helping them; both mother-child
I washed my hands with my tear when I heard of how
Mother, the dead daughter who had never died, and became a mother
Fostered and adopted…thanks to her children
After half a century
Thanks to DNA
Got united
Congrats
Shame
No
Never
A human
Never again.
Washed the shame.
Washed the shame.
Never again.
A human?
Never
No
Mother taught us judgment
After was sure I knew adultery
“If” she explained neatly, delicate
“the two are naked, sleeping in a bed, ”
Made sure I was listening; paid attention
“still they do not commit to witness, unless
you try them with a thread, stopped” was clear.
Judgment is difficult
If witnessing is so hard.
We know of many, not some
Forcefully sterilized, lost child,
The Indian-ness was killed in…why?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem