• • •
The first time I died
was in the hands
of a good friend.
I’d been bragging
about my new car, slick
and black as blood
while she stood tall
as redwood, a queen
in an apron, preparing
tea. Setting down the silver
kettle, she took my hand
to her cheek, soft as peaches
and like a school-girl cried,
My dear child,
Don’t you know
every toy
breaks
in the end.
• • •
Ever have someone tell you something simple that positively rocked your world? What was it?
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