The seventh rib

by Do Mai Hoa

Passing by a harsh childhood from a mountainous
neighbor where I and my friends potter on bikes
There, the village’s ageless nursery paddy field season
Smoke rising from grandma’s decrepit kitchen
blubbering firewood and straw…
Passing by the time when I was a sassy girl
with blue eyes
red lips
slim

waist
round breast
burn the eyes of the village’s
boys curvy walk that curves the
lane
left behind all the gossips…
I’m finding you
The rib finding its way back to the origin
Why had God molded me from a part of
you The seventh rib
Shouldn’t I stay close to your rugged arms
So I can be protected?
Stay close to an enthusiastic heart
So I can be loved
You carry along the pain of a missing part
since the beginning of time
The wound is about to heal
Again, he finds a new rib
The rib from the road of a mountainous neighbor
But darling
Which rib is truly yours?