I               was        staring  at           a              map

when    the        men       came,    measuring

the         width    of            Calcutta                with

a              thumb  as            they       told        me

to            stand     and        led          me         away.

The        blindfold              smelt     of            cardamom

and        I               remembered     my          mother’s

shoe-size             and        the         warmth        of

her         body      before  men       cut          off

her         ears       and        pulled   her

into        a              truck.    They      forgot   to

tie           my          hands    so           I               prayed

to            come     back       to            you        and

held       the         small      ring        with       a

red         stone    you        gave      me         when

we          eloped.   If             I            escape     I

am          coming    to         find        you,       keep

the         phone   by           your       bed        I

have      memorized         the         number.

—–

Millie Guille is a twenty two year old British poet, who placed third in the 2012 Christopher Tower Poetry Prize. Her work was shortlisted for the 2014 Remarque Poetry Prize. Her poetry has recently appeared in The Cadaverine Magazine, and is forthcoming in the The Fem Lit Magazine. She will begin an MSt in Creative Writing at the University of Oxford in September. You can find her on Twitter @MillieGuille.