is a fire, is a line of birds waiting to rise up from still water is the earth dark and heavy with spring rain is the air as the mist lifts, sighing, ready to let go—
what will I want back? You in bed close to me. I have been so hungry with a hunger you have filled— you feeding me like the ripe lychees the birds gorged on that summer in Costa Rica as we walked barefoot with our children to the beach. Red skins on the ground and the […]
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