Endless Ghostly Sisters, You the 50 Million
by Hannah Spruce
Endless ghostly sisters, you the 50 million
who never existed. Missing or erased.
You, the womb rejected never had a voice.
At birth umbilical coils, snake-like
around your neck and mothers hands soft to him, strangle you.
And you, who married off at 8 die
at the hands of an incubus.
Thrusting grunting man, stranger-husband.
Yesterday in your village you danced,
in flowers that had time to bud and bloom.
Body not fully formed, seized by hands
four times as old as you, crushing
petal by petal torn inside and out,
withered before you had chance to bloom.
And you ghostly mother of two,
burnt alive, like a Salem witch with a
delinquent womb. Harbinger of
life and death perpetual slumber bringer baby girls,
imprisoned in a searing shrinking vault that screams,
and blisters flesh, frenzied by scorching allegations that you,
and your womb are not nurturers to family.
©Hannah Spruce 2014. All Rights Reserved.
ABOUT THE POET
Hannah Spruce is a Leeds based MA Contemporary Literature student, writer and poet. She is co-organiser of the monthly poetry and prose evening ‘Juice’, which was short listed for Leeds Metropolitan’s ‘Enterprise Award 2013/14’.
ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPHER:
The above photo is by Anubhav Gaurav who is a supporting member of The 50 Million Missing Campaign’s Photographers Group on Flickr which is supported by more than 2400 photographers from around the world. To see more of each of Anubhav Gaurav’s works, please click here