Septembris 18., 2021


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17:27
Kathleen Fraser

The Baker's Daughter

Personal things is all I care about, she said.
He wouldn't be personal.
That's why I changed hearts. Parts of me ache.
But when OUR legs touch
I know what WE have in common. We loving two.
And pancakes, the joy they bring, is what I wanted to tell most.
We made a crack in the wall to whisper through.
That's personal.
Or the dream, his skin full of blood. You've been crying, I said.
I gave him sympathy because I wanted sympathy from him.
I thought I was good. But I was lonesome.
I woke up full of lonesome. I wanted to be personal.
So I lit the oven. She said.

(man šķiet, ir tā...)

honeybee -

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