Looting dead mom’s bracelets
she smiles and stares but
she’s upset. large man and pulsing
vein on the forehead he is
ashamed, she regrets. pushed
to the floor he wants you
to know he could kill you
but he won’t he’d rather have
you as his slave with your
long hair and wave silhouette.

He speaks to you though your
back turned he need not
see your face he knows it
tightens when he yells.

Half black half white
ram horns above your eyes
dance my child and do try
ignore the boy hanging
before you, his legs crossed
dangling spinning face tight and
dead.