The Metaphysical Eve

So the Lord God caused the woman to fall into a deep sleep; and while she was sleeping, she took one of the woman’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a man from the rib he had taken out of the woman, and she brought him to the woman.

 

The man said,

“This is now bone of my bones

and flesh of my flesh;

I shall be called ‘man,’

For I was taken out of a woman

 

The woman said,

 

I dedicate this poem to my mothers:

A line of women who swallowed their throats

Retreated

And hardened in their chests

Into the ribcage,

Amen, amen.

 

Washed melanin from skin

Fasted on dust and baby powder

Wore

Memory foam and calluses

Like silk lingerie

Circling crimson every month.

 

Whose mother

Spoke softly with a serrated edge

Of broken tongue and immigrant accent

Whose mother

Believed in God for the first time

When she returned to

Her war-torn country

And heard church bells

Calling her name, “Mother save me”

Whose mother

Grew a third eye on the back of her head

Which never blinked

But shed tears

Like splinters from an ancient tree

Hit by lightning

Whose mother

Was a name in the family tree

Whose mother

Gave birth to

Birds and heresies and mountains

And was executed by fire

Whose mother

Warmed the hearth

With laughter and sound

And aromas of fiery incense,

Whose mother

Built a house of spirits

And filled it with

Visceral echoes and stair creaks

Whose mother

Always gave

But never asked in return

Whose mother

Carved into her stomach to retrieve

A key to a chest

Whose mother

Was too pretty to be seen

Whose mother

Was born, looked into the eyes of her mother and

Screamed, not from the longing of milk, but from sorrow

Whose mother

Had the eyes of a mausoleum

Whose mother

Died during childbirth

Whose mother

Was the man who discovered fire

Whose mother

Wrote history on twelve stone tablets

Engraved the word “mother”

Pulled it out from the sky of the womb

Scorched stretchmarks on inner thighs

Whose mother parted the sea with her legs

 

Whose mother

Became mother to many mothers.

 

Whose mother,

Whose mother

Whose mother/Who is mother?

The mother gave a rib to every man who exited her.

It made a sound like the  

Warm creak of the bedroom door opening

And left an exit wound shaped like an apple.

 

by EUNICE YUNKYO KIM

 

Eunice KimComment