by Mary Padilla
Sanctuary it was,
when you were there.
And when you were
no longer there,
you could still go back
when you needed to.
You knew she was there.
She knew you,
would see you,
and let you in
– until she wouldn’t.
She didn’t know you.
She was there
but you weren’t,
not to her,
because by then
she wasn’t either.
She was gone,
herself no longer.