she wash in horse
everything but the barn is red. the barn is the shape of red. one can jump from its roof and never land. deafness, my proven ladder, puts her mouth into words.
she wash
in horse
her father’s
hands
/ of a grief misplaced by loss
everything but the barn is red. the barn is the shape of red. one can jump from its roof and never land. deafness, my proven ladder, puts her mouth into words.
she wash
in horse
her father’s
hands
/ of a grief misplaced by loss

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