Lantern Review | Issue 7.1
Preeti Kaur Rajpal
speak sinking liver
”Sinking Heart: A Punjabi Communication of Distress,“
as described in Social Science and Medicine.
I.
i am five years old and michael jackson is on tv
grabbing his crotch
he tells me to call him veer-ji
that means older brother
in case i do not understand
language
he is not my brother
close the door
take off the lights
i am good, want to be good, always good
so i follow instruction
he lies across the bed expectant
grabs me under my arms
pulls me on top of him
my dress flapping up where it shouldn’t
my liver starts to beat fast
hug me he tells you
you are not a hugging type
so you move your arms
flailing
like a starfish lost in fresh water
his breath against your baby skin
do you feel that?
the door blasts open
your mother grabs you
by your fifth arm
II.
the night divides herself into quarters
four arms of a broken starfish
over and over again
my mother asks
where? does it hurt?
i swim between language of livers or hearts
quadrant organs of which feeling tongue
tells her story
grandmothers say thrashed parts grow back
striking
like the long arm of a clock
a daughter can lose a chunk of herself
grow back without saying
anything
grow up to punch out
a wall
then dive into the hole
unfurl into seas and seas
of spindle arms
III.
in the bathroom your mother
filters you a new liver
cleans you a new heart
she peels off the pink
flowers of your dress
checks your rainbow pony underwear
examines your skin and small folds
she wrings you like you are a sponge
full of dirty water
what were you doing?
nothing mummy
she repeats the name of god
between curses
hai rabba!
hai rabba!
son of an owl son of a dog son of a son!
hai rabba!
hai rabba!
never let anyone touch you she yells
in the fourth quarter of the night
chitr gupt, the watchman and the writer
one small god on each shoulder
reporting to the final scale
record every deed you did and did not do
where does it hurt?
here, unspeakable in my liver
Preeti Kaur Rajpal grew up in California's San Joaquin Valley. Her poems can be found in The Sikh Review, Tupelo Quarterly, qarrtsiluni, Blueshift, Jaggery Lit, and Spook Magazine. She tweets at @kitaab_e_preet.• Photo: Anna Min