long before the barking
winter. Before this earth
grew cold and splintered.
Hardened like frost on

the ground outside. Before
weeping icicles in the powder
coffee cup and throwing up on all
the lies. Before chain-link ties

bounded milky hands. Before
pencil legs turned rubber bands,
making it unable to stand or
walk out the door, before

this ginger head rolled
on the floor. Should have run
at “hello”. The mouth screamed
yes. But spiked heels move slow.