built herself a cave out of cloths
With the laundry rope and her pink flower hair clips to hold
that she bought in a french tourist shop near the sea
with the money she earned in cents
by selling her paintings in the street.
no words, just hums and vowels
every sound a vow
to her intimidated play
in her cave.
Figures in her hand
has them in her hand
she paints their faces grey
Here, she is powerful.
Oh lovely deary me
I love you.