What’s a life valued in breeding years and scars
where luck is dark memory, escape?

knuckles scraped against walls, heaving and begging
their rough surface to break

small feet following ancient trails find newer signs
of bondage – skeleton prayers –

and ghost hands memorialized in iron and brick 
feed rhythms: Resistance, Despair. 

“These shackles’ size indicates they may have
been worn by children.”

Death -scented anterooms and parlors rage
with promises, weep through our skin.