Stirring : A Literary Collection
Samsara Quarterly

Jhoanna Calma


Deep in the woods I saw
a hand, still attached to a wrist
but cut off from its arm.
A hand, bluish white,
lying there in the dirt
and dead yellow leaves.
The fingers were spread out,
bent at the joints
so that they looked
like they were clawing
the ground, trying to crawl
over the fallen
leaves and brittle branches,
trying to get away
from the scene.

That night, in bed with Adam,
my first and only boyfriend,
I kept picturing the hand.
Even as Adam pulled up my nightgown
and penetrated
without kissing me,
all I could think about was the hand,
how, soon, it would rot,
in the dirt
in the middle of nowhere,
and how I didn't do a thing about it.

Jhoanna Calma
Location: Honolulu, Hawaii
Other: Editor of Prose Ax