unicorn

A certain risk of violence.
the child of my first marriage
misses the reference
i’ve yet to meet my second wife
Yet to lay my horned head in her lap
though with you
I may have come close.

 
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Now read this

The Itinerant Elder

I go from house to house With stained index cards Detailing My mother’s, mothers’ recipes in a plain wooden box. With a Sunflower, my cousin pasted, on the front. Fruits for all pantries and appetites. You don’t need to go to the store... Continue →