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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summer sadness
all my grandparents are dead all of them now live with me and I am as tired as they are calibrating so many endings sadness settles--a m...
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