and she was not wrong, I was a heifer
I was young, childless, I ate grass—a heifer

Though it gave me hives I rolled like lovers in hay
A virgin for twenty-two years, long lived the heifer

Three square meals means certified humane
Alfalfa, silence, silage, shame—the diet of a young heifer

I opened my legs to serenade the sun—the nerve to have four stomachs
With ringless fist she punched just three—made me unsung heifer

Raised for milk or meat, good enough to eat, still called unclean
I hid in milk-blue bathwater, let my udders pierce the surface, salty heifer

White dress clings in baptism waters, deacons eye the dark of their desire
There is a God who loves cows, Brahman named holy the unfaulty heifer

Dead six years, she missed my belly full—a bull is never to blame
At the altar, brimming with life, I said her name, heard her answer back: heifer

And now my calf says she crushes too much, says she will love
so many boys, Mama. I tell her that it’s a gift, the heart of a black heifer.

Alafia Nicole Sessions

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