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my stepfather used
to tell me stories when he was high pills crushed beneath his teeth hidden in his cheek floating in his recliner me by his side listening to the past is like walking on broken marbles his glass of grapefruit juice and vodka the ice cubes were my seeing stone that girl who listened so carefully at the mad hatters tea party was me he had no hat just a ponytail a ying yang earring poured words instead of tea i drank every letter remember this remember that remember the sound of pills grinding in his teeth so loud in a room too blue to imagine the sun
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AuthorMichelle Tinklepaugh Archives
April 2023
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