Then she
pulled my left ear,
mother...
The chiding,
it is, I know,
mother...
The chiding,
it is, I know,
for
leaving you,
for hiding in their city.
for hiding in their city.
The bloodletting
reminds me of home,
of belonging,
of what I’ve grown up to be,
a slave to the month
—telephone bills and 96 pages.
reminds me of home,
of belonging,
of what I’ve grown up to be,
a slave to the month
—telephone bills and 96 pages.
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