I have never seen a ghost
I have just one husband, dead and alive
My childhood home was never struck by lightning
I wear red lipstick because it’s ladylike
I have never searched for ways out
The spirit has never moved me
I bear no psychotic fondness for the moon
I don’t know what I’d do if a book could ruin me
When the wind skips work for an hour, I miss its whistle
Mostly this experience in loneliness is good for me
The sun never drags because I’m waiting to be somewhere
I can always read my own handwriting
I believe feelings are enough
I can tell trees apart
Year after year, the neighborhood park keeps looking like we remember it
I’d love to know why I’m like this
I grew up so full of hope, like everybody else
I got here on purpose
I had a plan
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