mummy's hands were cold
and she was sleeping so silently
I couldn't move the sky...
I leaned against puppet strings
she'd brought me on a rainy Monday
before the light in her eyes faded
and the hair fell from beneath scarfed patterns
she wore within...
mummy will see flowers
like the ones bent across her flesh
red and blue
catching their breath
the way she has many times in and out of here.
mummy's hands are so cold
and teddy doesn't know she can no longer hold him ~
pushed to the side of a well worn bed...
mummy had been learning how to die
for such a long time...
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