“Good Morning Say It Back”

My hair leads me throughmy own house like a ghostlooking for proof of itself,finds only the inconvenientsoft smells of the living,bitter as pith. In themorning I read booksby young men who are oldtoday, or dead, their everyerror cast now into legacy.They seemed to know soearly the worth of the windthat rippled across their longand lingered-over […]

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Nina Boals, “Hiding Matches”

As if coaching  words to swim  across oceans  for her mother, my mother shouts into the phone  to help her family hear  or understand.  For years, she’s been adding dollars  to add minutes  to buy time  she gets to speak  to family  who have forgotten all of the details:  how much sugar  she takes in her chai,  if she spells her name with a ‘t’ or a ‘th’.   I […]

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