Binding, a Process by Bhumika Choudhary

Light beige tape cut

into rectangular patches of

ten centimetres to shift

muscle(s) to sides,

as though moving through a crowd.

 

Patch folds into half, into squares

to cover nipples, to protect sensitivity

from adhesive seeping into pores to

mark distaste over puberty

men fantasize to squeeze

as though breasts are stress balls.

 

Yes, this is another poem on binding.

 

A slight rip in the corner to begin

peeling, to begin flattening breasts

as though ironing creases from shirts.

 

Slight rip, again, to pack lower half

into sides to see a breast

neatly massaged into armpit.

  

Repeat. Rip.

Pull. Hold. Release.

Bound. Repeat. Rip.

Pull. Hold. Release.

Bound.

 

Breasts tucked away. Yes, this is another poem on gender queerness.

 

An unclothed torso

lays on virgin bed sheets

to feel cotton cuddle

stretch marks and scratches left

by an unloved body.

 

Liberating. That’s how it felt.

Bhumika Choudhary is an Indian born poet that recently graduated in creative writing and rhetoric studies. She primarily writes on identity, trauma, transitions, womanhood, and culture among other things. Bhumika is the Creative Non Fiction Editor at Barren Press. 

 

 

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