by
Karen Green
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Strangers feel free to e-mail:
Nobody knew you before your husband took his life.
Your mother is as small as a comma, asleep in the chair.
reminds of (alleged) descriptions of Lenore from Broom
[...] The doctor says if you were so quote perfect for me unquote you'd probably still be around, no offense.
I take your parents to the lighthouse, I do. There is nothing but September fog to cover our shame, and your father laughs just like you, at the opacity. I want to eat the laugh, I want to rub it on my chest like camphor, I want to make a sound tattoo. I also want to bash these two small people together and see if a collision of DNA will give me my life back. [...]