"When the hour for departure drew near the old mother went to her bedroom, and taking a small knife she cut her fingers until they bled, then she held a white rag under them, and letting three drops of blood fall into it, she gave it to her daughter, and said: "Dear child, take great care of this rag, for it may be of use to you on your journey."of (annotated version at www.surlalune.com)

I will spare you the histrionics
of taking the boning knife to my fingers
Blood need not be spoken

I wish to be useful
and warn you of the guile of others
both women and men

Be wary the one who rides with you
who carries cyanide capsules
in the pocket of her smile

We all bleed when alive
liquid rubies on white cloths
Then comes the time
when our hair thins
and splays wild in wind

When I am long dead
my face as bare
as the horse's head
hung on the gate
I will still speak to you
enter your dreams

and the dreams of your daughters
a bit of guaze in the river
floating up

the bit of red that ties the eyes
a mouth
a purse
whatever you need

Lucy Simpson, Seattle, 2009, revised 2011