Spine straightI sit, knees crossed
Making a list.
I feel wrung and wet and timid
I've been making phone calls
and hearing the anonymous voice
you are more than the sum of all of those experiences
This morning I was gulping for air and searching for solace in a small pouch of stones
I found my father's gift
among the chrysocolla and quartz
my heart burst, relief in his enduring love
Years back, more than a dozen
he came to pick me up from a bad scene
I was kicking and screaming that I wanted to stay
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