How to Forgive the Predator
All living things must eat.
The stomach is not impartial; neither
the soul. We survive
by what we do and do not nurture,
and sometimes this requires teeth.
I say to my son, Don’t incise
the soft part of your heart.
But he does,
creating a scar—each time toughening,
each time making the tissue
less susceptible to pain. When I got
divorced I learned quickly
that this is what made me desirable
for eating, having been broke down
by a mallet, my husband’s
hammering anger tenderizing me.
Having forgotten pain.
Having learned not to squeal
in a cage but continue to release
the lactic acid that keeps the slaughter
from spoiling. My son
teaches himself to forget pain too
in the same house, on the same street,
with the same sort of fleshly
cravings, a little indifference
to break down his appetite for love.
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