“Rub them raw, rub them raw.”

  her mama said

“Sand the floor with your feet.”

Knee deep in tea and a fistful of holy cards in one hand and a hanky in the other, like spider nets, catch her dreams that try to escape.

“Challenge yourself to cry until you're contorted into something new,”  mama says, “perhaps a lovely lady rocking a side pony tail that says things like, "I really don't feel like to go to the wedding.  I am simply just too sad.""