Sharing the love my words, half-sentences, plotless phrases, scribbled punch lines shred the papyrus, I dream on. you’ve, abandoned me to my own night terrors, like the time I told you about red rhinos riding religiously through Arabian deserts lush with greenery eating canaries and fried chocolate pies; you politely turned to me, smiled like …

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Folgers As a child the Folger’s coffee can got more touches then I. So, I learned how to get real small, learned how to cram myself inside that can hoping to feel the warmth of my father’s hands and not their backsides. © SB Joy, 2022 As a child I could smell the Folger’s brewing, …

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Skinned A family can survive major pruning. The loss of parent, grandparent, child. However, a family tree can’t survive without its bark. The stripping away of my childhood’s outer layer. The intentional toughing up routines backfired, thinning the skin until raw and every word or touch burned like a bare light socket sunk into my …

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