The bottle tips downward
and dye purls horizontal.
Before it hits the table
I remember how the elk falls:
blood runs across shoulder,
vision floods with blindness.
Ink rips through skin and
children begin to yell.
The white cotton,
bundled into nests,
cannot be saved.
The hoof still twitches.
I remember crying, pleading,
will we be red forever?
The next morning
our shirts are strung up in a line,
shot from long distance.
Serena Deng is currently a junior in high school.
Her work has been acknowledged by the Scholastic Art
and Writing Awards and the NCTE. She lives in New York City.
Featured image: Color Skating By Flores Rebeca