Salt
But Lot’s wife looked back and she became a pillar of salt. ~ Genesis 19:2
Salt or flesh,
what’s the difference?
My body only existed
to preserve his.
Again and again he tried
for a son,
but only received these two girls.
That last night,
when the strapping angels
visited, the men of Sodom howled
outside our gates and begged
for a taste of their flesh.
Lot, the bastard, offered
my daughters instead.
You can do what you like with them
he shouted as he gripped
their scrawny arms and shoved
them through the door.
The angels stopped him;
he ignored my gutted pleas.
Before the sun rose,
the angels urged us to flee
toward the mountains.
Don’t look back they warned.
Lot led the way,
huffing as he dragged
my little girls by their hands.
His pale calves reflected
the moonlight and his flesh
jiggled as he ran.
My eyes watered
when I smelled the sulphur
which rained from the sky.
My mouth burned
as it filled with the brine
of my tears.
Yes, I looked back.
I could not bear the sight
of Lot another second,
and turned to see
what could be more wicked
than that man.
Lot’s long gone,
but men still squint when they’re
blinded by my glare.
Their tongues blister
if they dare to
taste me.
what’s the difference?
My body only existed
to preserve his.
Again and again he tried
for a son,
but only received these two girls.
That last night,
when the strapping angels
visited, the men of Sodom howled
outside our gates and begged
for a taste of their flesh.
Lot, the bastard, offered
my daughters instead.
You can do what you like with them
he shouted as he gripped
their scrawny arms and shoved
them through the door.
The angels stopped him;
he ignored my gutted pleas.
Before the sun rose,
the angels urged us to flee
toward the mountains.
Don’t look back they warned.
Lot led the way,
huffing as he dragged
my little girls by their hands.
His pale calves reflected
the moonlight and his flesh
jiggled as he ran.
My eyes watered
when I smelled the sulphur
which rained from the sky.
My mouth burned
as it filled with the brine
of my tears.
Yes, I looked back.
I could not bear the sight
of Lot another second,
and turned to see
what could be more wicked
than that man.
Lot’s long gone,
but men still squint when they’re
blinded by my glare.
Their tongues blister
if they dare to
taste me.
January / February 2023
Rachel Mallalieu is an emergency physician and mother of five. She is the author of A History of Resurrection (Alien Buddha Press 2022). Some of her recent work is featured in Nelle, A Gathering of the Tribes, Dialogist and Rattle.
Art: AI generated by DALL·E
