Rosemary

More than any laughter, blood seeps around her knees. it's like broken water, but life isn't hell, its toll is at her feet, a used cartridge shell, elated or in despair, she can cry if she pleases, or wonder who cares, she stands by the river, swears she'll never release, names he called daughters', in matters of distance, knows what she's leaving, why beg forgiveness, a dank set of stairs, times that brought sympathy, a rope just for her, yellow nights of weeping.