We are out sisters’ keepers.
The butterflies have flown away, like my ignorance and youth.
Here I am,” I say to the palm trees. “I can do this. Watch me.
Lately, I don’t talk much except to Mel. I make an exception because he has a dog.
A dog’s good for filling a grief-dug hole.””In the Shape of Shep
I never tired of picturing sharks.
pencils racing across paper, a sound I like.” Marisol
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