The story is an old one—
a man wants a girl and so
he takes her. Girls are locked inside houses. Girls crawl
naked from dog leashes,
Duct tape slapped across wet
mouths. I hacked my hair with garden shears, the limp
pigtails bright as snakes in the grass.
A man sits in the jellied luxury
of watching, his shoulders rounded as beef rump.
There’s only so much shame
a body can bleed
out in the yard where even cheap lights can’t shine.
Girls do not speak.