The truth bares its bone of bones and trade

they’d trade their spirits for red wine- roses picked clean.

mother began to sing, “Nobody Knows  the trouble I’ve seen,

She’d given birth to many of Nobody things- whose arms are those -she holds the pieces of missing girls, whose legs are these – she maps a journey- underground, wild-child, indigo, negro, brown, white girl, Latino – all the hurt is the same

Whose breast are these, whose lips, whose eyes?

one helped a man find a dog,

she never came back,

one on the playground in the schoolyard

one holds the riddle, thousands of men to ban abortion

Mother had forgotten – her body, her prayers, her arms, her legs

whose blood is this? Kindness sis Krissy