(All writing published here is owned by me unless cited otherwise.)
Education and God tell her that the only way to live is to be better than the person you were the day before. Kerouac and Bruce Springsteen wrote her lines to keep her moving, she’s got to spend all her money and share all her love before she runs out- because she can bet nothing else will. The newspapers nudge her into pessimistic uncertainty, and while she growls to be let out to bite into the skin of everything and to suck life’s marrow, it’s been done before. She has her wide French eyes done up in purples and browns and she’s been told she musn’t allow anyone to obstruct Jesus’ path to her head, hands, and heart. There is a warm and systematic certainty about the way she takes my hand to remind me that in her house, Grace is given before food is taken.