A girl sits down on her knees praying.
Her young bones support her limbs.
Her house is built of faith, of father’s
Strict commands. He tells her
Praise Him, and He will bring you Life.
The girl thinks, but I’m already breathing.
How could whispers into triangle hands
Save her from anything?
The girl walks along rocks in Colorado.
Her pulse dancing with the wind.
She breathes in, and the air shares secrets
And stories of the past.
Her bones scrape against her flesh
Her skin too tightly stretched around them
As if they could snap at any second,
Ignore their elasticity, and shatter.