She loved to hum jazzy standards,
and Something About Us
while looking at me. I was
the color of blushing wine,
always so intoxicated, it wore on her
as she did everything for us.
Christmas, she put
crimson ornaments on our bedroom tree,
and I had eaten six odorless tablets
so as not to attract
attention, but she knew. Why?
was the look in the pages of her face,
dog-eared and bookmarked for future reference:
This is the journal of my life, be sure
there is more to say than this.
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