Your mother lost her virginity thinking of a song; had, at some point, loved more men than you had lived years; let your father kiss her neck before the night you were conceived; dreamed of men, stoic yet empathetic, as she showered.
Your mother imagined celebrity and writing songs; rode down back roads before dawn daring the dew for adventure; cried, discarded, weekend nights she wasn't asked out.
Wednesday, October 05, 2011
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