When I had a high fever, Eomma let me drink mango nectar in a fancy glass while she read classic love poetry. There was a chickadee perched on our... 1/3

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The sun went missing for ten unholy days after her magic inkwell spilled, staining the world in shadow. We couldn't forget the end, reviewing... 1/2

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Argan oil to keep my hair from blooming in the rain, mouthwash to keep apologies from wake-up's bane, malachite whispers on eyelids framing views of you, agelast in this revolution as today's youth.

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We are all luminous, leading one another to safety. Our truth lies in words that the false see as fiction—trailing sighs feathering ink, spilled stutters on stepladders, pen pal letters between margins.

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