I. One Pinewood Road
oh! i am three and one fourth years old, unsullied by human kindnesses!
i learn to quiet my bones and rattle around in the back seat of our mini van. it smells like coffee stains and mom and dad.
the kind of bitterness that wraps around my chest like a blanket does not warm my lungs yet. i am a blossom, i unfold, too young to know the burnt air i gasp in does not soothe the throat.
II. Eleven Charter Road
it is the first day of kindergarten. i am scared confused frustrated five and one half years old, bouncing around in the back seats of the bus before i learn that i’m not allowed back there.
Lily Margaret Friedman and i sit together and hold hands, make a pact that we’ll be best friends. we stop talking in the fourth grade. i tell myself not to think about…
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