she sits there
hands caring her hairs
eyes gazing to infinite
mind blank to ripple
i watch her enigma
as she dwells on whispers
making a piece of an art
from the tears of anguish
i cry and cry
till she writes the rhythm\'s
in the silence that cuts
all the hums in middle
once done she stands
and crawls back in covers
with the warmth that burned
all of me in the cremation