Genealogy of blood Clear skinned virgin, cusp of change, mother, counting the days, no, yes, no, please, and here I am, cheeks creased like the back of your shirt, we are charms on a bracelet of age, all red, red, say it again, red for danger, red for stop, wild women, poisoned fruit, colour me red so I can be seen, talk to me about blood.
Sue Watling is a writer and poet living on the north bank of the River Humber in the UK where she has an allotment and keeps bees. You can follow Sue on Twitter @suewatling
Amethyst Review 