Tatters

She doesn’t grow anymore in tatters
The young one stopped it
Dance, woman, despite your streaked cheeks, unmarked eyebrows and scrunched-up face
Dance, dance, dance
with your man.

Is this love? She wondered.
When he has seen all that
and still loves me?

He’s seen her hunger
her lowest
her love
and he took it
for what it was.

Even if the odds are against them
They’ll get out of here
She knows it.

It takes that he remember his promise
to never let go.