CRYING CATHEDRALS

And she wants him too much to hide

But would never get too near to sit too close

For fear it would close on her fingers her hands

So she stands out like a sore thumb

In the background again

And can't for the life of him remember how not to be herself

To be delicate

Quietly

Listening

Wearing herself like a fashion

Unabashedly

Crusading against the giants

The ever-watchful eye of his little girl critics

And she can't stand up to reach