by Zel Kuroi
Bananas mashed in a coffee cup. It's what she fed me when we couldn't afford store-bought. She reluctantly parts her toothless gums for the spoon, fighting her humiliating dependence. I hope this registers in her meager memory.
She might still be too little. But when she has me again, I want my bananas mashed.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
The Life of the World to Come
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