Disgraced
Closed eyes, they lie back.Knees bent, bellies bare.
Fifty girls in a row
who don't want to go through the process.
The nun places a
ruler
from hip bone
to hip bone
across the bodies
of fifty girls
in a row.
If their stomachs touch
the ruler's wood...
God protect them
from the voice of the nun
who calls them fat.
useless.
unladylike.
Bones are bones
and skin is skin
regardless of the faith beneath it.
Girls have kind
and sensitive souls
regardless of their thickness.
Poetry by Katherinee x
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Written on 2013-02-17 at 00:18
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