If she would only let me
climb the vines of her braids
lie in the shade by the creek
sip water from her slippers
slip the gown from her shoulders
taste the raisins of her *******
die in her arms 1000 times
the widow beneath a willow.

"I can't wait to see your face when it's finished."
Mother to Daughter.
Ceramic Masks.

Move towards the light
Do not stay in the dark
Always find yourself
And reach for that spark
Rise up and beyond
Have that strong will
Keep a level head
So you can see another thrill

(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 1, 2016)

Pitchforks gather,
Chinese made,
The red embroideries.

Autocrats swagger
Trumpeting
Bile hyperboles.

And wicked blather
Resurrects
The soul amputees.