Undressing a Woman Is Like Peeling Garlic
Miriam Green
First choose her, separate her from her friends.
Pull away the outer layers, that paper-thin
coat that crumples so easily.
She is afraid
of what will happen, of how
you might treat her or
touch her in her familiar places.
Persuade her. Strike
with the blunt edge of your blade.
Do not crush her wholly. Stroke her
with words until her smooth ivory skin
is revealed.
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Miriam Green writes a weekly blog at miriamsgreen.wix.com/thelostkitchen that chronicles through prose, poetry and recipes her mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s. She holds an MA from the Shaindy Rudoff Program in Creative Writing at Bar-Ilan University, and a BA from Oberlin College. Her poetry has appeared in several journals, including Poet Lore, the Prose Poem Project, Ilanot Review, The Barefoot Review, Women in Judaism, and Poetica Magazine. Her poem “Questions My Mother Asked, Answers My Father Gave Her” won the 2013 Reuben Rose Poetry prize. Miriam is a 20-year resident of Beer Sheva, Israel, and a mother of three.