Letting the Memory Settle

As we skipped rocks at Walden Pond in steady rain, you told me I just needed practice, that my outstretched hand needed to move in one single, continuous motion. You selected each stone with care, inspecting their flatness as if choosing flowers for a date, only to send them off into the gloom, certain ofContinue reading “Letting the Memory Settle”

Assumptions

I assume you’re not gonna call back — trauma says, “Why would you? Don’t you see my flaws? Don’t you see my fears written out in flowers and bulbs?”   Ballpoint pens do not lie like the rest of the world, like my mind hearing you say I am pretty, or I am adventurous, I am,Continue reading “Assumptions”

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