Poetry Blogs (Lydia)

I met a woman at the Blue Nile.

Our first encounter was her attempting to kiss my face. She seems to be in her mid-late fifties/early sixties. She began to tell me that she is okay, over and over again. She began to cry. She told  me her sun died. He OD'ed at 39 years old. She watched him die, with his head between the toilet and the sink. Her other sun blamed his brother's death on her. Sh...

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