Our definitions always were from different dictionaries. Your kindnesses would become my debts, and they would bankrupt me. Each of them, loudly lamented sacrifices… Continue reading

You would tell me I was chosen. As if that somehow made me special. As if the shame and the indignity that you saw in my roots could be washed clean with my repotting.   But when you took me to your home, you would forget I was from elsewhere. That my leaves needed different light. And you’d… Continue reading