- Vol. 02
- Chapter 07
i. Figurines bowed down in submission, asking, begging, seeking.
Shake the dust from off your prayer mat.
ii. Peek inside every weeping crevice that holds a curled secret,
siting there, waiting to be coddled.
iii. From your years spent ploughing the furrows, form the neuroglia,
the stickum and spit of memories.
iv. The baby with chin tucked to the knee hears everything you say;
whisper now all your sacred knowledge.