Bear with me, for these times
when words
won’t do
when grief rests at the edges even
of dreams and it seems we will
never quite get it though we stand
truth in hand, refusing to listen,
refusing to acknowledge the tears
that glisten
on mother’s
faces, refuse the traces of the image
in the darkest of places. Bear
with me when I know not what
to say, when not even the…
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