Workings of love showed themselves.
The arteries.
The oxygenation. The lung of patrimonial support
was a myelin blanket covering decades of nerves.
Nerves that spat with emptiness.
Fake porcelain.
The travel cup filled with tears for her situation.
The waterfall that developed beauty.
The unspoken gift. I believe in you.
The same blood.
Self-love sprinkled from a new spring and it wasn’t guilty.
She knew a Golden Fleece was within reach.
The sign of authority that was peaceful.
The magical ram was there. It had always been there.
Her car turned onto the road and
she believed that anything was possible.
She was Jason
with no claim to a throne –
just tender with unconditional love.