Bleeding 2

 

I've stained my fingertips with blood

and doubtfully raised them to my mouth.

This blood that shuns my body

has no bitter taste.

My nipples ache

as if asking for lips.

I don't want yours,

I don't want anyone's

I keep them for me.

 

My inside beats inside demanding answers,

And I've rested a hand on my breast.

You've asked me why I sometimes understand

a lioness better than I understand you.

Now you know why, when my breasts are beating,

I won't let you touch them,

and why I keep them for me.

 

 

© Leire Bilbao
© of the translation: Sarah J. Turtle & Iņaki Mendiguren

 

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