They said she liked mermaids, and
that she skips
''with a rope in the living
room.''
Ponytails, ponytails
rubble and rust.
Dancing with the Angels,
amongst bones, amongst blood.
Ashes,
pale, hung -
interwoven and weaving still..
''..she was shot in the wrist by a
rubber bullet.''
(Never going back again though,
no.
Never going back again.)
Alone and pale
and nowhere to go,
'cos your already home, my Angel.
You are already home.
*
But she's not afraid of the
soldiers,
no.
Not afraid of the soldiers no
more..
And yet,
she is still ''unwilling to admit
her fears.''
___
How many bullets was it, that
called for such salty tears?
She doesn't know,
'cos she's only nine years old.
Only nine years old.
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