"The Poisoned Aquifer" by Jenna Le from ONE

Today's poem is by Jenna Le

The Poisoned Aquifer

While I was girl alive, they made me crawl
inside a tomb beneath the pear tree's roots
and sealed the door, because I'd dared to call
a spade a spade. Each year, fat yellow fruits
would thud against my roof and shake my bones
in the twill dress that was now my only skin.
Despite my candor, no one moved the stones
heaped on my grave to dig me up again.
Thrilled schoolgirls whispered tales about the wrong
I'd borne. Their titillation made me strong.
The more they talked, the taller I became:
first, seven feet, then twelve. My tomb's walls burst,
and out my thighs, transformed to rivers, thrust.
Their waters taste like pear but scald like flame.

Copyright © 2025 Jenna Le All rights reserved
from One
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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