Met my father in summer at some wedding. She won’t say if they kissed or felt clairvoyant twinges during Vows.
Read moreBORROWERS by KATHLEEN RADIGAN
Since my mother lives inside me, I bake a lemon cake and frost it with a blunt knife. In weeks of frizz and fat rattles I knew her as my Other. We’re two people, she said. Start hardening. In autumn she taught me to use a shower. Hot bullets over her breasts. Our bathing suits […]
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