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bric-a-brac: The Honest House | Megan Falley
In an effort not to crawl back to you, I crossed the 2 train off my subway map in blue ink,
called it a river, sold my canoe.
Swept the soot from the chimney into a vase, scattered it all over Manhattan. Husband, I
pretended it was your ash.
Spoke your name in past tense and still, when we...
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