The Woman with Two Skins: A Poem
The hours in between just long enough for him to glimpse the way her beauty rivals the clarity of the moon
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The woman with two skins walks away, down the red-curtained hallway, her bare feet lifting quite quietly. Like a still panther he wonders whether. The lantern light falling, yellow-eyed.
So he marries her. The pinkish rouge of autumn is not enough. At midnight her skin falls from her shoulders like a dress; at dawn with seamstress’ blue fingers she sews it back up. The hours in between just long enough for him to glimpse the way her beauty rivals the clarity of the moon.
The sauce that stains the king’s chin is mixed with the medicine the queen has put in it to make him forget her. Adiaha does not even emerge to him indistinctly, as if shrouded in fog, but he passes her without even knowing she is there.
Unacknowledged, she leaves. Upon the return home, the embrace of the eight-armed father. The straw hut glints goldly in the sun. He holds her as she cries… He takes her with him to hear what the Water Ju Ju has to say.
At the advice of the Water Ju Ju she offers the king the food which will make him remember her. In his widening eyes, there is something like the dispersal of clouds across the great sands of Umbulu……………
Finally, a son.
A Ju Ju (bribed by the Queen): The jealousy of the son she has borne you brings you ill. You must drown him in the river.
The Chief Subjects: Do not hesitate. His life — you carry, already, its replacement.
The years past, in sun-faded procession, pass again: The bewitched king eats the fruit from her hand, and his eyes widen in recognition. He is reminded of the forgotten beauty of hers at night. This time a daughter’s body, accepted by the river from the servant’s hands, washes away…
Under the square’s flagrant sun the wrestling bodies erupt with groans and sweat, the mass of spectators shifting around them like dunes of sand in the wind.
When the day has grown long, the judge of the great contest holds up the arm of the victor, his face covered in blood. Unknown to all, he is the king’s son, who like the king’s daughter was saved from the river many years ago by the Water Ju Ju.
In the torchlight of the victory banquet the queen’s eyes glitter as she looks at him.
The Queen: Quite strong and handsome… made to be a king.
He drinks at her toast. His eyes do not waver.
The Long-Lost Son: As the champion of this great contest, I request of you, my king, a trial to be held.
The king’s son tells the people his story; he reveals to them his sister and his mother, Adiaha, who has taken off her second skin and will never again put it on. The people judge in his favor, and the queen is taken away.
In the forest the smoke rises from her burnt body. The law is passed. Adiaha enters the home which is now hers. The king dies, and the son he once tried to drown ascends the throne.
My first book of poetry, “Anansi & Other Poems,” is now available on Amazon. Link below.
