There was nothing significant about her
those words came so naturally to her mother
spoken so fast--like a sharp blade to her skin

Her skin turns a bright pink under the sun
he grunted in a distain that sliced through her fingers
her heart dry as dust, her mouth taste of gun powder

She did not find the blade unnatural to her skin
it felt like childhood, like lovers, like home.
it stings with such familiarity,

she was certain, this was right.