Today my spirit soars,
What good are feathers torn loose from my fiber,increasing stride the hard wayif I never get to walk beside youbefore I’m ready to…
First thing every dayHave the conversationMirror’s looking your wayA…
her daughter’s throat: a jar of bumblebees; and Rosa’s mother sees the hair: white on the pillow;now…
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤWas that easy ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤYour life ㅤ…