She's Red

as a painted evening
sky. Red as the algae
dyed tide. She was pink
on the day she was born. Pink

frilly dresses and ribbons
she'd worn.  But then her blood
curdled like sour milk that's left
in the refrigerator, sitting for

weeks. Her rivulet eyes
and puffy apple cheeks. Her little
hands clenched like clams
on the beach. Her curls stuck

to her nape wet from her
sweat, ******* her thumb like
a leech. But it wasn't a breast
filled with sweet cream. She didn't

digest between all the
night screams. As she grew
she saw red on her white
cotton sheets!! And she'd go to

the store to buy red for her lips
and her cheeks. Red's what she wore
the day daddy left her there sobbing
at the front door.