Nightmares tore her sleep with unseen teeth.
Her small thin legs in constant cramp from dream running.
She was only a child, but not the only child,
beside her, across a gap of oaken floor, in a matching bed I slept.
Whimpering brought me near,"Tell me good things," she'd say.
"Make me sweet dreams." And I would snuggle her close.
"Warm, small, cuddly kittens," I'd chant
and "chocolate bunnies to chomp."
The memories long gone, linger on.
I remember her wet cheeks
and sheets of woe night after night,
until the wee girl began to grow,
to shield with the only things she knew food,
with food for thought and form sated
sleep came easier.
She grew through the nightmare of longing
our home, she grew to and past me
little mother, big mother,
she sang the songs of love to dolls,
to kittens, to stray dust-motes
Too sweet to linger in the lost land
where battles must be found and fought.
Too dear to go through life alone,
need...garnered, family formed
upon the rack of sustenance
and the twist of genetic curdling's
she blooms still.
Barricaded at intervals from the nightmares,
cramped with too large a soul in too fragile
a form, sister mine, friend of all.....