Tag Archives: grandmother

Cinderella

She grew without him. Buckled to his shelf like a dungeon marriage. Making food for the mice in his cupboards. In the time before cellphones In the time before caffeine and booze In the time before she recycled his socks … Continue reading

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His

Green green green –ery ish, like hat on a stick in the haze of tan stucco walls on a beach day. Kiss me a fool Pledge me a lie Grafitti ghosts of past lovers like my fingertips bloody. Misspelled. Difficult, … Continue reading

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