For the Taken
she washes the dirt from the sheet
no Jesus, Mary Magdalene to perform the task
of washing away iniquities, or
the spirits of dead babies
in this place,
the only sound she sees is
ticking clocks,
measuring,
not fast enough
the minutes, seconds
lasting labour
under sweaty bodies,
drenched and groping,
filled with raging hatred
in this frozen time place
she is thirteen,
robbed from home
made to work
as sex slave object
yet prayers to the ancients, any god
won’t stop the clocks
ticking not fast enough
to free her from this trade,
maimed, and chained,
forever shackled
and claimed by a
bleeding, shattered, bed sheet
Oct.18, 2013