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