She sits in front of the dishwasher;
The face inside stares back at her,
Eyes so deep and wasted.
Near the cabinet another face reaches eternally to the cabinet,
Eyes with misery and so bitter
The face behind her leans against the counter,
Eyes tense with barely concealed fear
Count to five
The face in the doorway stares at the kitchen, grayed in and gray,
with eyes frozen in shock, pulled back into a flinch,
A soccer player sees the ball heading for his face.

The face behind them all is faceless;
She kneels on hands and feet, picks up spilled glass,
shattered milk.
and blood.

She never looks at her,
but They all stare at her.