the man who hit me goes
to make love to his wife after.
someone tells me all of his teeth
have fallen out now & I use
mine to laugh & chew
tobacco sticks. I once prayed
he would never smile again, & maybe
the Universe is hilarious, & maybe It
doesn’t care about our laughter at all. I am
floating with nowhere to go. trying
to convince people I am alright. a woman
fit me for a dress. I wanted to show off
how I rid myself of the violence
all over my body & she makes
clothes folks sway good in.
tape around my waist, she notices
I don’t have a navel & I gotta tell
the truth—sometimes,
people are not born, some of us
fall into this world
Copyright © 2025 by Hilda Davis. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 20, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.