Safia Elhillo

in cairo dark girl at the british school
my hair oiled & brushed thin to kill the curl
still in my uniform at samira’s house watching
the heart on the table wrapped in butcher paper
small & muscled & dark the way i still imagine
my own heart to look

& that afternoon we ate it fried in dazzling oil with onions
i think i am trying to say something about a curse i think
i am saying i did it to myself