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Maybe if I write these words slowly, it will make them hurt less. I can’t remember what I wrote yesterday, but it had that dizzying effect that swings sometimes have: nauseating, like maybe I should have kept my feet planted on the ground. But I have always loved the idea of flying, and being on […]

In the other room,

I hear my grandmother whisper, “Is she really thinking about…?” And my mother answers, “I don’t know,” exasperated, “I try to stay out of stuff like that.” And I am in my room, poetry pressing against my eyelids because it’s easier this way, easier than seeing the rain clouds. Am I really thinking about…? My […]