This time, swearing it would be different, Fauline braided the child’s hair with lilac and sorrow 
before abandoning her.
Sun begat moon, the land wombed, and Fauline fell to 
vines and whispers.
This time, swearing it would be different, the adult tended Fauline’s garden.
Wind begat stars, dust obscured paths, and she slept, dreaming of next times.