Alexandra Corinth: Testament

Photo: Joanna C. Valente

Testament

I.

bloody and wild
so many almosts

vines growing over open windows
trapped inside with a mirror or memory

the same quiet under warped glass
handprints in the dust

II.

his tongue
mouth mine

hinged doors for teeth
no key or fire escape
every cell on display
seven nights a week
under heavenly crimson light

all these minutes that are not minutes
lost in exhale

III.

the sun is warm on my weary face
but he is not my son
not father or husband
no king of this sanctuary
of bones and wet

but oh, how he conquers
rids me of every anchor and
calls it freedom

I am unmoored
in his thievery

IV.

they gave me knives
because is not the will of the virgin
a holy violence?

shorn hairs make tapestry of
this marriage bed
and I am not sorry

V.

for every promise made to me
I lose something that cannot be found

VI.

in the pages of your journal
I am laid flat like a paper doll
hands over my breasts
pelvis curled to hide that depth
you call womanhood

make me sinner then
make me martyr and Madonna
hallowed whore at the foot of the cross

my slaughter will not atone your wickedness
only stain your nice clothes

you will always remember me
you will always know my name

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Alexandra Corinth (she/they) is a disabled writer and artist based in DFW. Her chaplet Deus Ex Diagnosi was published by Damaged Goods Press in 2019. Their poem “Language Barriers,” published by Kissing Dynamite, was a Best of the Net 2019 finalist. Alexandra’s work has also appeared or is forthcoming in Saint Katherine Review, Construction, Barren Magazine, Entropy, and SWWIM, among others. You can find her online as @mermaidshewrote or at mermaidshewrote.com.