Toothbrush

The toothbrush has had it. Six bristles left to tickle out specks and scum, bent, crippled, and sad. The handle itself is made of rock,…

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Our House is Open

The child is throwing darts at an underwater target. He is like a secret society all by himself. His mother calls him to dinner. He…

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People Everywhere

With every hurt word, I hid behind furniture and nail polish and sweaters. I hid in lines, on buses, underwater. I hid in burritos and…

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