red/empt/ion

she cast it from her hands before she even knew what it was
and the word broke into pieces at her feet
she picked up the fragments one by one
feeling their fractured edges
and wondering what they had meant whole.

"red" was the first piece,
a color she knew well:
flush of shame
and shade of rage,
the blind hue that surged and
painted all her insides.

"empt" was the second piece,
a fragment that was almost a word,
"empty" without a "y," for example,
or maybe "tempt" without a beginning.

the last piece was "ion."
if she knew basic chemistry
(which she didn't)
she would recall what it was,
something that was incomplete,
something that carried a charge.