Ten.Five Hundred & Sixty-Two
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But I don’t want to get up.
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Cereal for them. Let’s keep it easy on this Monday morning.
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He looks like he’s about to cry. I ask him if he’s being made fun of having trouble with other kids. No. It’s just a general dislike of school. I still don’t know how to help him with this.
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I crawl under the blanket in the bunk bed. It’s so cold everywhere in the house. I can’t keep myself warm.
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It’s good to see her face and hear her voice.
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Embodied desire.
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The fragrance of the lilies. I think of my grandmother and my niece.
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A tiny book of wine terms from 1955. She’s the most thoughtful. I’m working on that.
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They ask if they can eat the oranges we picked off the tree. Not yet. Not yet. I just really like the way they look with their leaves on the slightly wrinkled linen. Besides, they aren’t that ripe anyway.
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My list of things I want to do far exceeds the energy I have that would be required to complete them.