Her conversations wrapped around hope like a Kentucky porch
dreams drenched in newly released fiction
she pinned her children’s dew to her shoulder pads to stand tall
convinced her eyes to swallow intuition.
She simmered her saucy sway to disappear in his abandonment
But the thunder crashed her calm
and streaked her breath wild and array like cheap paint.
She prayed she hadn’t just birthed her seventh child for the third time
as dubious matter surrounded her conversations with God
and gasps soiled her pillows.