She bought herself a rosary ring
for a dollar at the mission, planned
to learn the incantations,
let them overtake her,
slip it on to
conjure up the coolness of adobe walls,
the comfort of the circadian,
of completion.
At home, his shoulders
rolled it when she held him
or he’d twirl it
like a roulette wheel,
the scratch ofcheap metal stinging the soft
flesh folds of her fingers.
She’d laugh, and tell him
to start praying.
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