‘The butcher’s daughter’ by Petra Kamula

  The butcher’s daughter I wake early, begin before the sun tips itself red onto my hands. Hush, I’ve learnt the songs I must sing to you heifers and your calves. I’m already well acquainted with blood. Clots and stains as thick as tongues. It’s a language the boys in the yards have yet to discover in fluency: I carry it in brim-lipped cups. I … Continue reading ‘The butcher’s daughter’ by Petra Kamula