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Cardboard Butterflies
She makes love to the man the actor in her dreams resents her husband while awake closes her eyes while he pokes and stabs at her She is more comfortable with the idea of a man than most men in actuality She favors colored strings and paste scissors and paper She is in control of the shapes and activities she chooses a creative talent Children engage her giggle and climb into her…

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Dissembling

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A Child is
When I was very young, I promised myself I would come to know my children, to listen and learn from them. No gift compares, nothing in life lasts so long. The only certainty I have ever known, that children are the all. A child is a sprinkle of sunshine come to illuminate the inner hallways of our existence. A child is the answer to all we are, the solution to all we would be and are…

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Those Without Graves
On the ride to work each day I watch the soldiers’ cemetery pass. Everything appears equal there, stone tablets standing at attention, grass trimmed by wiry brown-skinned men. I see a lady bend down; she kneels, sets a cup full of wild flowers before a stone. I feel a hitch in my breath to watch. Flags ever in evidence, the here and now of this place and this day, each grave…

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