January 1
For 26 years I was left
to my own devices—
a peach pit
in the municipal landfill.
When we walked home
together, the silent
auction that takes place
between single people
at the bar was still taking
place. I remember an owl
flew overhead left to right
like a pinch of salt over
the shoulder. Dear reader,
I want you to know that
I have come to terms with
the fact that everything I tell
myself might very well already be
half a truth ago.
| Hajara Quinn |
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