To my ex-boyfriend’s daughter

Somewhere

South or East or North of here
a little girl is learning

she is hollow

like somewhen a girl
pried herself
from the pomegranate bark

and walked away

her father pries her tin can
torso open
waves his hand inside

I don’t want
to say this

I am responsible
for you

for the vacuum
you fell into

for smashing my soul
and virginity
on the orchard floor

all my psalms
have led to this:

grow bitter
as pomegranate seeds

grow halved
and full of doubt

and this will save you


Victoria Sepulveda is a poet from California’s Central Coast and lives in the Bay Area. She received her MFA from St. Mary’s College of California. Her work has appeared in Solo Novo and ‘Corners of the Mouth: A Celebration of Thirty Years at the Annual San Luis Obispo Poetry Festival.’

Leave a Comment

Your email address will never be published or shared and required fields are marked with an asterisk (*).

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.