She cups my hands as she gives back the coins
It is just what I need
Her hands
Sweet as apples
I am glad you are here
In the rain
There is no vanilla today
But all my powder is filled
I shake it like icing
Over a cake made of straw
Hard to swallow
I need something more viscous
To help it down
Make it stick
milk and sugar
hot cherry pie
they demolish and dismantle without permission of the white
hand
the door hangs off its hinges
somebody had the energy to run
enough electricity to bolt
they add planks to the gate
gate wedge window door
stuck inside more stuck
I skip over puddles
Trip over stones
The phone is in the box
The phone is disconnected
The phone is not rung and does not ring
Radio silence
I am not five by five
The stain gets bigger
cemented stuck wedged
Lethal as raspberries and pears
It all means nothing really
I feel her there
When I put the coins back
When I remember her touch
When I remember everything I need.
