too loud

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i am comforted
by the dawn-yellow tint of my grandmother's walls
that wrap around me like a bathrobe.

inside her kitchen there are paintings of
apples and cowgirls,
and cigarette smoke that binds us together.

she casually tosses a shrieking newspaper on the table
and i look at it, dizzy
as if i just found
a gun buried inside of a sandbox.

"would you like another glass of milk?"
she asks
but all i could hear was the ear-splitting crack
of open fire.





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HaleyS. said...
Jan. 25, 2012 at 8:34 am
I don't get it but I like it. o yeh
 
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