The Coniagui women
wear their flesh like war
bear children who have eight days
to choose their mothers
it is up to the children
who must decide to stay.
Boys burst from the raised loins
twisting and shouting
from the bush secret
they run
beating the other women
avoiding the sweet flesh
hidden
near their mother's fire
but they must take her blood as a token
the wild trees have warned them
beat her and you will be free
on the third day
they creep up to her cooking pot
bubbling over the evening's fire
and she feeds them
yam soup
and silence.
“Let us sleep in your bed” they whisper
“Let us sleep in your bed” they whisper
“Let us sleep in your bed”
but she has mothered before them.
She closes her door.
They become men.