This place used to be a safe place
now it’s a dead space
as she watched a boy push more sticks into the ground
do you like my stick graveyard he said
she smirked and nodded her head
he beamed briefly and continued his grand vision and task
I know the sticks are dead but maybe they will make new leaves and grow again
that’s not likely she said you can’t make dead things come back to life again
I know… I know… the boy said his voice cracking with hope and high pitched strands of urgent letters
but they…. COULD…? right his eyes creased and bright
she watched as the stones he swept with his hands piled high
the little mounds he patted neat with his bare little feet
he kept looking up expecting an answer she rolled her eyes and just sighed.
Yanis….she said I love….the things that pour from your head
the… little leaves wont sprout dictating with her arms remember like what we talked about
the little human looked bitterly at the ground he looked like he was going to cry
staring through the window a man wrapped his hands around her waist and on her shoulders his head
did you tell him?
his crossed wristed pressed into her tummy, his elbows gripped her iliac crest(s)
what the hell am I suppose to tell him?
that me his ‘sister’ is him mum and you his ‘brother’ are really his dad?
He put his arms round her neck; pulling her in,they were pressed close chest to chest
Each feeling the others rampant heartbeat
But hers was quicker in her breast
Look at him
Are we not blessed…?