Lets fold our hands child. In the name of trust

The child looks  at her feet from the chair,

dangling 

staring back at her like two still monks.

"we will keep you safe" , say the small little feet.

She looks up and the woman is staring at her, her mouth is moving

The mothers heavy and worn body is behind the womans ear.

The woman speaks "Are you alright child?, do you ever get punished in this house?"


She swings her little feet, and mimics the movement of the swaying, praying monks

Her head says No, 

The womans back disappears behind the door.


Her mothers hand raises



The shoes have become toes, curling into flesh....

To escape the needled ends of the hands

who spoke her existance out of the womb.


- -_- -