[untitled, unheard]

right now
i’m reading a book
about a rape
in a time where the idea
should be on the front page
of everyone’s mind
but it’s usually pushed
back to page two
or three – way below
the folds of so much
gray matter

how far into
the recesses of her mind
does the statute
of limitations go?

does it go all the way
back to 1950 or ’51 –
when her mother’s
mother was forced
into the back corner
of the barn, and deep
into the shadows cast
by the gas lights?

does it stretch back
to when her own
granddaughter’s rights began
to be stripped away,
and her legacy was laid
bare, for us to judge?

Originally from Wisconsin, Erin Lorandos is a librarian and writer living in Phoenix. Some of her recent poetry can be found in Drifting Sands, The Avocet, the 2021 Poetry Marathon Anthology, The Purposeful Mayonnaise, The Bagel Hole, and in The Bluebird Word. Read other articles by Erin.