On August 13, 2017 by clancyjane. When Mom moved on to the next. With a warmer clime than the cold Lucerne winters. And I was fetal on the floor. Sister Paula said this is why we only get one Mother- because no one could go through this twice. There is so much to miss in the palpable absence of a physical presence, like. A windchime laugh that rings through the earbones, and her arms wrapping tight to press your hearts close.

Lovely as a tree With Gratitude to Verna Mae. A place for poems and people who pen them. Her comment to me, something like, the world is changed; you might be especially needed in your office now. With the puppets who helped teach the Guidance lesson, I left innocence and entered incomprehension.

My vagina is bald inside my underwear, inside my pants. It feels everything and as I sat with you and your wife, trying not to look at either of you too much, and searching for perfect words to express my wrecked self and jaded worldview, I started my period. Perhaps it began before the shaving- when a classmate fondled my hair? What a relief, but sad as well. Or maybe this started even before that, like with the move to Oregon? Choosing not to go to college right after high school? Instea.