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[23] P rize She looks at me through a caul of forgetfulness. Does she want to be understood? She who could not watch her own mother die but locked herself in the bathroom, vomiting. I ask myself why should I? She was like the morning glory’s trumpet in late afternoon, disappointingly folded in on itself, hiding her heart from view. I stroke her hand, its skin thin as a petal, knowing she will never play the music I hoped for. ...

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Additional Information

ISBN
9780874217971
Related ISBN
9780874217964
MARC Record
OCLC
650341890
Pages
93
Launched on MUSE
2012-01-01
Language
English
Open Access
No
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