Naming

The problem was
she had a little black book
and my name was written on every page.
- Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Little red frenzy--making fresh wounds,
wrapping tourniquets around dark hair, dark eyes,
all while healing the femaleness,
the blood fresh, arriving in pulses.
Somebody's daughter is missing,
her face blurred in pulses,
her hair on fire
in a little red frenzy.
Swallowing air, lungs swollen,
she floats, all dark and red and tired.
Her femaleness, all sterile and new,
dries in the sun
as she floats to the top,
the very top,
the very ceiling
of her prison,
repeating
the name of her former lover,
the name of her savior,
the name for her fresh wounds.