Caitlin Scarano’s debut poetry collection, Do Not Bring Him Water, begins, ‘as a child you don’t ask yourself why you’re hiding, / you just hide.’ These poems bear witness to domestic trauma and the many forms it can take. In this collection, women escape knots of fishing wire, secret rooms behind radiator grates, hammers to the skull, vegetable gardens, howling houses, chains and chairs. Scarano orchestrates a strange, lyrical world where the lines between human/animal, male/female, past/future, guilt/innocence, and waking/dreaming blur with both visceral pleasure and danger. We are led through this world by a speaker who is attempting to both acknowledge and disrupt a history of violence and silence. Yes, perhaps ‘no one is made / for anyone,’ but love can still engender from loss.