this place took her in-
    willingly?
her parents say no.
but
took her in
and gently tore the penknife 
through her skin
where the blood 
exploded like so many 
beads of caviar on 
a hungry tongue and
left a vapor trail
drawing across the sky,
collecting together
and dripped to the light blue linoleum
that she helped her father put down
shattered and splashed
and fell
hand outstretched
penknife skittered across the floor
like a roach under the kitchen lights
cut not deep enough
to die
but just enough to kill the soul.

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