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Archive

There is no lasting peace

There is no lasting peace, just days like this: the house warming outside in & Sam, his bare feet on my lap, biting his upper lip & reading.

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My children tickle me to laughter

My children tickle me to laughter, tricking the famine in our bellies to contract—not in want of food—but to commemorate our survival.

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Through the louvers I see Joy

Through the louvers I see Joy. Was it only last night that she’d pressed me against the tamarind tree? I touch my arm, ready to let her in.

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When we lost language

When we lost language we all went blind. Our eyes dry, that ache that once allowed us to see you became winter. We shrugged when you died.

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Calabash meets muslin

Calabash meets muslin & the water of the first cools the other…for a time. Muslin wants soaking, turns calabash upside: hollow & dry.

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