

PeachesWe wept into many places that summer, Crookd between two tree branches- opened wide like Mothers arms; cradled us like crying babies.Peaches
And we prayed in the backyard beneath a green peach tree- just a fuzz burn on our Upper lip sour juice trickling down our chins Branches swinging from hasty snatchings. This is the love we first knew.
And we knew torment like some people know the gospel. I watched him try to wash himself in his own blood, Cut in panicky inadequacy As if he were doing God some kind of favor, And its amazing the thin


On Women: My Grandmother KickAfter grandpa died, I asked if she was lonely. I thought she was being brave when she said 'no'. but I have seen her eighty-seven year old bones go for walks in the woods or make sugar-free cookies.On Women: My Grandmother Kick
She is a bird without a cage. She makes solitude look romantic.
Self Portrait
--
...on the ceiling.
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