more for you

there’s a great intensity to

the way her hands hang heavy

with jewelry even as she holds them

in front, plucking at each other

betraying what her smile hides

even to her, perhaps:

the children knew,

from the moment they could know anything

that they could not rely on her

to keep them warm

or teach them to love vegetables

or pick up the pieces

when their tiny porcelain faces shattered

when their fabric tore

after all, hers had too

long ago, and no one had helped her

and now

even as everyone has grown up

along the seams

the stitching that holds is haphazard,

their fingertips are hardened by needle pokes


↣ end-ordovician trail
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