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Dangerous Compassions

happy thanksgiving, Frida

I’m lying in bed while family is in the living room and kitchen. Maybe the backyard too. It’s dusk of some kind–nautical dusk maybe?  I can’t tell whether a thread is blue or black. I’m full from dinner and headachy. I feel disconnected. But Ming’s here with me. 

I’m wearing my favorite socks. That always guarantees a good showing. They’re my yellow Frida Kahlo sox. 

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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