—after Julia Fernandez Sanchez’s painting
her breasts are empty shells.
(she has no children to feed—she eats her young before
their lungs are formed,
swallowing them in yellow slurping gulps.)
her skin is brown, la sirena sienna. her hands are firm and sand-callused,
and a tree of knowledge about the bodies of men sprouts from her head.
(women come to her hairline, gathering fruit, storing for winter.
they leave offerings: burnt lamb, the bones of oxen, new eggs
still covered in menstrual blood.)
and her pussy tastes like the sweet
cooked flesh of mahi-mahi.
(she decorates
her inner thighs with the scales
of angelfish—come in,
come in, she sings,
bringing men to a lovely
madness without even parting her lips.)
