Asifa died in January
it was April when I learned
it is always already too late
We walk alone to the river
to the horse, to our homes
our thoughts catching
on branches of doubt
of light, rupture our
cruel, fool-ish world
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homemade parade
if I could take today in my arms bewitchingly like a mother to carry it into the future to the world outside where I have yet to go in pe...
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