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I died without the beautiful unfolding
I died without the beautiful unfolding accorded to calla lilies. Had I those days between shoot & droop, what wonders—what works to perform.
Read moreI waited and you did come back
I waited and you did come back, but not just you. There was God and an Italian orphaned of good looks & humor. We all had tea. I wept later.
Read moreAs you gyrated up there
As you gyrated up there, your afro shrinking with the heat, they couldn’t see the back doors you entered, the doors that were closed.
Read moreDuring the warmth of spring
During the warmth of spring his youth died without fanfare. The buttons on his shirt, unresponsive to his tremulous hands, told him.
Read moreShe found refuge here.
She found refuge here. The tea was hot and his words rivaled Gilead’s balm. But when despair bound him tight she had long forgot his name.
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