For decades, the debris
of bored, unmoored hope.
Ordered: a brace of fullness.
Fulfilled: bits of loneliness.
Now there are these loves
for thousands of stories or
prayers. I never surrender/
care for myself this way
_
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the next time I see you
I guess I'm at that stage where I'm telling random people that my mom died. As I was checking in my luggage at the airport, the de...
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