“It’s a surprise…
Come here my sweet angel.”
She shyly steps over to him
And in his palms places her gentle hands,
“Come my doll,
Let me place this blindfold upon you.”
He ties a blindfold across her downcast eyes
and tapes her surprised lips.
“Now, sweet angel of the Lord,
Hold out your right hand to receive your gift.”
There is a sharp swish!
His knife slices through her first finger of trust.
“Want an education, eh?”
Her forefinger will never again index another book.
“Want a career, eh?”
Her signature finger is cut to the bone,
“Want to improve yourself, eh?”
He hacks off her trembling little finger.
“Want to discover yourself, eh?”
He peels off the identity from her thumb.
Her trust, her love, her dreams,
They lie there scrawled in the ink of her blood.
But in time there is a vow made,
She promises to learn to write again.
Her left hand will right the attack upon her rights,
She will resurrect and join the cracks in her dreams.