If they come between us.
I'll get us far from fear.
And safely distanced from harm.

Said those lovely rags hanging from a bed of hair.
I longed to hold between my thinning fingers.
Stashed at my waist.
Twisted by youth.
I held our real hope and yet.
Lamented its part in our lives.

We heard the trampling grow louder.
As his men drew closer.
I reached for song to distract us.
From fretted conclusion.

Matthew forced us down together.
Huddled beneath that cracked window.
Still more intact than ourselves.