night
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night
I clean my face at night my mother calls it taking off the day. I can clean my face, but I have seen too much that cannot be washed away I wonder what it is all for, the fear, the smell of dread, the infighting and I wonder if things will be different in the… Continue reading
About Me
poet, diarist, writer, teacher, woman, fragile, strong, northern life is my domicile, my barbaric yawp exudes against the tide