Three sisters with one eye among us.
It was easy to see that we would be blinded,
Eyes plucked clean from our heads,
Mothered by a decoy.
Not a clue,
Knowing a little of this and not enough of that.
Targets for practice.
Far too often two of us shared its insights,
Lining it up,
And the other was left to fend for herself.
Clay pigeons in a ploy.
Blindsided on a narrow road,
I stumbled off,
This is no way to live.
And my sisters?
Stacked over and under
Side by side
Rolling the eye
In a cheap barrel
I once shoved you hard into the weeds of a field
On a beautiful, clean day with crisp fall air and white sky.
I turned and offered myself to the mad dog,
A hope that he would remember me,
That you wouldn’t be hurt.
And then the dull white ache of longing,
The deep sorrow of a little soldier.
My breath burdened by teeth and claws.
Little rag doll in the mouth of a monster.
Six years old,
Legs like broken sticks I hobbled,
Past the friendly petunias in the front flower garden.
I recall the pleasure of a warm breeze.
A curious moment of discovery,
My blood beautiful.
Through the white door of my house
I crawled onto my bed
Where I bled
On the purple flowers printed on the crisp white spread.