I.       City / Amy

She was a saint of cement,
all sharp edges and concrete,
smooth lines and waves of heat.
Her home was close to mine,
her heart was next to mine,
our fingers intertwined
long ago.
She is still a saint of cement,
cracked and cold beneath our feet,
nature pushing up from beneath.
With construction she is smoothing,
her ruggedness so soothing
to me.
Now when the time comes to say goodbye
my saint will not cry
anymore.


II.       Freely / Kristy

I am always surprised to see her scars,
thick parallel lines on her back.
Her body is so small in comparison,
and sometimes I feel the urge
to simply let go
and hold her close.
Because no matter how hard she tries,
her back will never freely bend
again,
thick metal rods restricting the flow
of what I know
to be something more than
a still life.


III.       Candy / Mary

I inherited the bag of cotton candy, last
in the row and most eager to fill
my mouth. I am remembering the taste and smell
of childhood dreams: redheads, ice cream,
and shiny noisy things.
Once again I smell the vendors
and greased carnival machines.
I smile as the sugar melts, and
I am back in the seventh row of theatre two-
I am remembering you.