Dear kindness, I may see through a glass, in a half figurine. Tables turning. Blood rushing to the scene. Where have we laid our conversations? Where have we laid our un-prayed, prayers?

Over- yonder down by the riverside.

In the foggy-haze, taste a pinch of hope

see the sky, curl-over against the legs of the sun

bills unpaid, missed days, hair- all in blob, and done,

conversations now, are more than others got.

And God this is just a thought, if only, your hinder part

leave a spec of glory, that we pass through

so we may know, God has not forgot.

God has not, forgot.

Kindness sister Krissy