Mother choked black cherries until their bodies burst,
marbled counter decorated with their bleed.
The dogs howled toothless at the back door,
ribs pierced through fur like fork tines.
Dust storm carried her off screaming
Father grasping at her ankles halfheartedly
everything drenched in dark purple,
another woman waiting in the back room
for him to bed.
Meggie Royer is a writer and photographer from the Midwest. Her poems have previously appeared in Words Dance, Winter Tangerine Review, Electric Cereal, and more. In March 2013 she won a National Gold Medal for her poetry collection and a National Silver Medal for her writing portfolio in the 2013 National Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. Her website is here.