If he were to look upon her, he might reposition
Her flesh to a heap of nothingness, caliphate
The incline of her breasts and then abscission
Her ribs open like the edges of an envelope - abdicate

Body from body and grasp her heart, his palms weathered
More by this indecent end than any of his years
Before. The knot of blood between them untethered
In the sharpness of a storm; her sharpness inheres

Somewhere other than a heart, the touch of it loose,
Unstructured. Her sister's the same: an earthbound
Thing. He might swaddle them both in muslin - as if to abduce
To his party neither is lighter than a feather, both are crowned

With cold blood, to declare that there is nothing daughter here -
But he does not look at her.