I’ve heard when you drown it feels peaceful
Like floating in the womb 
In a homespun shroud of blue water.
You found another way 
Far from the sea, the salted shallows
The paperbark trees that lined the tracks like a church
And the skeletons of cuttlefish you carved into stories 
With your fingernails. 
Stranded in the red dirt
Under a sky so high and wide 
When it yawned, it swallowed you whole
You curled up small
Sank into those endless plains of nothing
Turned your face to the dust 
And ate what you could.
It hurts less each time, you told your daughter as a comfort
Slips down your throat like a fresh-shucked oyster
You don’t even notice the taste after a while.
There’s nothing in our archives
Only your first name, a quiet imprint
Among the faded cascade of blood ties
The women in our family 
Lost or unspoken 
Washed away in the tide of our men.