Say to your mother, girl

How little it took to keep you here.

How six seeds were enough for you

To betray both of your hearts.

Admit to your mother, girl

How far from the path you were

When I rose up and stole you.

How it only happened

Because you’d disobeyed.

Face your mother, girl

With bruises still on your neck

And pomegranate juice still on your lips.

Recount to your mother, girl

All those times you sat at my shoulder

Still and thoughtful

And the way you raised your eyes

When I called you darling.

Show to your mother, girl

The white dress that she sewed you

Stained black by my hands

And torn at the shoulders.

Cry to your mother, girl

About how much you missed the sunlight

And your flowers

And touches to your red hair

That didn’t make you shiver.

Return to your mother, girl

Knowing you could have been a goddess

But instead, became mine.