She comes home with
bruises on her arm,
but mom says nothing;
pretends she doesn't see.

The next night, mascara
lines the ivory of her
cheeks; the crimson
of her eyes.

And then she comes
home after running away
for a week. Debates
telling how he's dripping
from the flower garden
of her soul and body
(all of it beginning to wilt)

but mom

Just scoffs "I knew
you'd be back." and
so she says nothing at all.

She is alone in her
crowded house. With
nothing but the desert
of her womb

to keep her company.