

Seventy StitchesThe doctor said I was lucky that my brother did what he did. But I didn't feel it at the time. No, I felt each of the eighteen stitches─ six at the base of my left thumb, twelve across the smaller toes of my right foot─ I felt the needle struggle then break in and out, then the friction of the thread pulling my skin taut.Seventy Stitches
I wasn't really lucky: my sister was three and in the habit of drinking from the stained porcelain bowl whenever the seat was left up. Those were the years of the drought, and like other good families we abided


The Straight DealIm reminded of love or something like it, each time I look up angry, or sad, or simply fed up, and nothing you say trumps what I see. But even this is exhausting: your perfect hand of royal suit always wins. Because its not really you− its me,The Straight Deal
who deal after deal slips the lesser cards
to where I cannot face: the edge of the table, the tips of my sleeves. So hand after hand Im cheating for you, for us, for all that well be and love
or something like it.
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A sad and lonely Man
Je suis seulement un homme triste et seul.
: )
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SteadyShot Photography
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“Writing is really very easy. Tap a vein and bleed onto the page. Everything else is just technical.” ~derrick jensen
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