comes down the pike
her own children
look for signs of life
signs of love
the church of the outstretched hand,
the requests to touch
with the other hand...
full of the same promises
the many reams removed
cause cause causeway...signing, signing
the same road,
the same paving stones...
buying a way to grace, giving until it is painful...exquisite?
touching no one never touch ever no one no one no two
the safety of removal and
its imitators..of a cloth, hole-ier than the shroud that'll wrap her in a peace
she almost knows in some dreams
pieces of those dreams drift
...back to focus
inherited wealth have festooned...the shiny things...she may touch them....
certainly there's more to it....consider this a snapshot...less than a portrait...