Based on a true story

Wednesday’s child

The pale girl carried a dark bruise so fresh I flinched,

my breath drawn pity and a rush of outrage.

I wanted to hold a cold hand to her brow.

I wanted to grab her mother’s arm, demand to know how

she could let this violence fall .

The girl hit me with a hard stare.

I mumbled a smile, shuffled away with a guilty face

and grains of shame and grit in my hair.

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