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53 Arranged Marriage —for Sittu Imagine climbing an almond tree, groping your way among its pink blossoms, you straddle limbs thin as your delicate arms, your legs wobbly as a newborn lamb’s. You are twelve reaching for the ear of the sky from the top of this tree hoping to be heard by any God on this, your wedding day, a young Eve, taking refuge, dreading the much older Adam who celebrates below, oblivious to the hard bark that scrapes 54 your soft flesh, flesh whiter than a woman’s, white as the new bed linens that mouth your name below. ...

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