Let me tell you about invincibility.
Eva, who has just called me from the train,
has not stopped bleeding in two weeks.
It’s because of the baby, she tells me,
even though it’s been six months
and her doctor says that women’s bodies
are cats that always land on their feet.
We don’t talk about the inevitable:
iron supplements and maxi pads,
how her doctor didn’t sign off
for her to call in sick and whether
or not they make a menstrual cup
large enough to get her through
her 3 o’clock meeting. Instead
we talk about the rain and how
the world becomes softer after it falls.
How heavy the baby has gotten
and how many stops are left
before she can get off the train.
The doctor says our bodies were
built to carry pain, but I disagree.
We were built to wash it away.
