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All the Sisters I Never Had

By Katrina Naomi

after Mona Arshi

Aside from me and my sister there were three more all

girls I half-remember the arrival of one of those would-

have-been sisters half-remember the blood trying its damnedest to keep her safe as it flooded Mum’s skirt a

dark patch becoming the dominant colour as Mum

toppled across the bed Almost a noise to that blood

certainly a smell-rush of metal Mum gasped to phone I

knew 999 Christ knows where my father was I dialled

trying not to stare at Mum’s sudden lack of elegance

my index finger almost performing a complete circle

three times My finger ran back in urgency faster

than my hand was prepared for Mum half-lying on the bed

half-kneeling on the floor as if in prayer the blood

clumped on the carpet I tried not to look at her skirt

as Natasha or Rebecca or Alice fell In films

the carpet is rolled up taken away

KATRINA NAOMI is a poet, tutor, mentor, translator and critic from Cornwall. Her third collection, Wild Persistence, was published earlier this year.

Art by Ellena Murray


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