Menarchic Sestina
Her tenacity was coming from the soil.
In the biting cold front, she sensed potpourri of apple.
It is herself, alone; In another trial —
No, but also, in her woolen body, the embryo,
the lamentable toll of being a mother,
In her maturing, intensely pounding heart.
She felt the overwhelming pressure on her heart.
When she went upon the stage and realized to her the soil
Matters much as herself being a mother.
She had the whole spring in her oral cavity biting the apple,
Accelerating the maturation of the embryo.
Soon she heard the gavel starting the trial.
The atmosphere turned solemn after the declaration of the trial.
Something has approached her cold little heart,
So did the twenty-eighth-month-old cell, the embryo.
“When will I land? Where is the soil?”
Her hands are wet with sweat, or the juice from the apple,
She could hardly tell as a mother.
Listening to the parched and sultry statement, the mother
Began to doubt the meaning of the silence during the trial.
In her mind, she’s dancing naked, becoming a sack of apples,
Swaying as she lost count of the beating of her heart,
one step after one on the nurturing, idyllic soil.
Behold! She did not feel the embryo.
What brought her back was the alert of the embryo.
On her infertile back, she felt mother climbing up,
As she calculates her weight, pressure onto the soil.
It was indeed a rational, manmade trial.
Her body was weakening, and so was her melting heart
With the tightening grasping of the apple.
Where was the melodious apple?
At the moment, she couldn’t care less for the embryo.
Her breaths sped up the beating of her heart,
On her skin, she felt the scratching of mother.
There was no stop for her blood or tears during the trial.
Under her feet, tears are permeating the soil.
She found the apple between the feet of mother.
Something has ended the trial and the embryo.
She stopped her heart, returning from mid-air to defrosting soil.
Yiniu Chen is an international freshman majoring in Communication. They love writing in general but show a marked preference for poetry. Their favorite writers include Sylvia Plath, Sappho, Kazuo Ishiguro, and James Joyce. Some of Yiniu’s favorite things include Samgyetang, Ingmar Bergman movies, La Gazette du Bon Ton, 78 RPM recordings, and some good laughs.