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luís soares

Blog do escritor Luís Soares

Paul Tran - Like Judith Slaying Holofernes

I know better than to leave the house
without my good dress, my good knife
 
like Excalibur between my stone breasts.
Mother would have me whipped,
 
would have me kneeling on rice until
I shrilled so loud I rang the church
 
bells. Didn’t I tell you that elegance is our revenge,
that there are neither victims nor victors
 
but the bitch we envy in the end? I am that bitch.
I am dogged. I am so damned
 
not even Death wanted me. He sent me back
after you sacked my body
 
the way your armies sacked my village, stacked
our headless idols in the river
 
where our children impaled themselves
on rocks. I exit night and enter your tent
 
gilded in a bolt of stubborn sunlight. My sleeves
already rolled up. I know they will say
 
I am a slut for showing this much skin, this
irreverence for what is seen
 
when I ask to be seen. Look at me now: my thighs
lift from your thighs, my mouth
 
spits poison into your mouth. You nasty beauty.
I am no beast, but my blade
 
sliding clean through your thick neck
while my maid keeps your blood off
 
me and my good dress will be a song
the parish sings for centuries. Tell Mary.
 
Tell Eve. Tell Salome and David about me.
Watch their faces, like yours, turn green.