it was the first time they argued,
in the pantry looking for bread
when Ysolde mentioned the family skeletons (so to speak)
what is revenge worth when the soul is at peace?
and what would she know about peace,
a life not lived with scars and wormholes
feathered lights in her window and warm dogs by her feet –
couldn’t she see the stake in heart?
he preaches to a god that never heard my calls
and call she had, voicemails and smoke signals
because her father had believed, not her
wouldn’t he come for his only child?
the white noise in her bedroom had been enough of an answer
she left the bone-laid cat in the arms of the raven girl
the pantry too tight for her heart
and walked away for what she thought would be forever