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Archive

Lamb

Tangine didn’t know, which was a lie. When summer finally knelt before fall and Uncle Henry, who often acknowledged that he’d overstayed his welcome, crept out of the house for his 6 a.m. flight back home, the pores of the house opened; the sun gushed in warm and full, powering through solid, gray clouds. Tangine [...]

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I remember the taste

I remember the taste of my parents’ wedding cake. No shotgun metal in the rum frosting, but sweetness in the flour, us kids suddenly giddy.

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Everything is new

Everything is new, including the squint & the absence of two front teeth. He’s still like a sparrow, flitting; looking for me in the crowd.

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I sang for these rupees

I sang for these rupees. And dodging the cars, scooters, the childlike wonder of slumming tourists, I find Rehka stirring dal by the road.

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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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