The girls in Jurez trampled to Earth, a foot upon, face down; some buried still alive in pleas to grave, of virgin eyes, begging forgiveness, and shame to Grace. Though faults not hers and sweat mixed with blood, a mixture fertile, brief dying seed; forced. " Papa!'
The glimmering remembrance, like leaves with wind in, to and fro catching the sun, of laughters felt, hugs and kisses, ' Mamma!, ey ' Unde es Papa?' Felt slowing, somehow.
Fantasies of mirrors and candles, The Lord's Prayer and unspoken Rose; her single sheet left, a room of cardboard walls where rain was kept...sometime, away. A husband never to know, secrets left within the walls that listened but never spoke. Lingering dares of wanton touch, though never! Left in broken thought; a promise...lie in silent whispers, now covering, a covering of growing weight. A memory, felt brief. Then dull resounding, soon too, in diminished, the stop.
A beautiful light, as if babies breath; bright. A loving warmth embraced her sudden.
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