God

god
She loved how she spoke to her about her god
fondling the cross around her neck
caressing
"the virgin has grounded me"
she too remembered a time when she scampered to god
in fear
in anticipation
how she gripped the cold rails of god's existence
her palms dripping with fervent prayers
nails digging deep into her flesh with markings of faith
until her callings were answered
until her desires were drawn out into existence
not anymore
not that grip into a fleeting deity
god exists firmly like a cold iron rod in the back spine of her soul
every movement, utterance rings with a pressing presence
but she does not grip
does not hope
does not call
they stand together watching the raging sea
calamity upon calamity crashing the shores of existence