she was 10 ,
and love was measured in bruises
in her house ,
and when father got home from
work
she and her brother would race to find
the best hiding place .
her tears picking up pace with each
foot step that she heard .
she wouldn't dare to utter a word as she saw
his shoes , too close to her face .
she hid under the bed ,
hoping that springs and sheets
were enough to keep her safe .

she caught a glimpse of her brothers toes ,
sticking out from the space under the closet door .
father moved toward him ..

she felt herself **** in a breath .

father would skin him
and wear him with pride
and fold him upon a wire hanger with the
rest of the
coats
in that closet .
........
that night , they counted up their cuts and scars and bruises and brokeness ,
and decided that they had collected just enough to move away .
and so ,
they packed blankets
and apples ,
and not oranges because they were both allergic ,
and 5 nickles and 7 pennies she had been saving up for a doll ..
and they snuck out the front door ,
but they both hardly thought of it as sneaking
because father was sleeping with a shine in his skin
and shine in a bottle that was at his fingertips .

they crossed the street
and a light , so bright smacked their vision ,
came at them before they knew it was a light .
but they awoke in clean jeans and white t-shirts
with their backpacks still on their backs -
feeling as light as air , and walking on clouds .
someone had spit-shined the roads --
they seemed to sparkle like gold .
and mother was at the end of the glittering path ,
smiling that angel smile she always had on in the mornings
before the morning when they dressed all in black .
they looked about to see gates made of mother's necklaces ,
and smelled the sea salt
and knew they were

**home .