Draw a line in sand
She’s the border of one side and the other
At times unteathered
Without prediction
There’s a mystique to change if it’s bidden
And if not …
Galloping down flights of stairs in Wellington boots
Doors unlatched, bodies surge toward the wild
Leaving behind tables of cups and saucers
A black current stain on her dress, she didn’t
Care what others thought
Letting little boys see her private parts, beneath the weeping willow
Hers was the reaction
A swinging, uncovered, naked lightbulb
Denied its right to be switched off, to sleep without searching hand
She learned, the way of obedience, had a sharp taste in her throat
Better climb out, scale the walls, tear your hands than
Be mounted with his collection on a pinkering wall
To dessicate and lose color, for each pulse of his filthy yen
A gamble necessary to quit and never look back
Running on bare feet with feathers in her mouth
If she left the earth would she sink or float?
Going over the edge, empty-handed and savage
Yet .. children survive
Incomplete and clean of doubt
Their enemy known, in the family photo