I know you know

how to shame into obedience

the long chain tethering lawnmower

to fence. And in your garden

are no chrysanthemums, no hem

of lace from the headscarf

I loose for him at my choosing.

Around my throat still twines a thin line

from when, in another life, I was

guillotined. I know you know

how to slap a child across the face

with a sandal.

Forgive me. I love when he tells me to be

the water you siphon into the roots

of your trees. In that life,

I was your enemy and silverleaf.

In this one, the child you struck was me.

Tarfia Faizullah is a Bangladeshi-American poet. The chosen poem is from her collection, Registers of Illuminated Villages, published in March 2018.