she makes me laugh she shards my Last night, while healthy bright child focused on assembling Zolo sculptures, and handy heart-throb husband tackled the last stack of boxes, I decided to "contribute" by reading aloud sections of getupgrrl's wicked-tart writing, sorrow sliced with wit and bite.
I had to stop. Abruptly. Trackpad smeared with finger-swiped tears. When able to resume, I resumed reading here. 2004-12-20
I worship at the altar of one who would despise me
that bleu cheese laugh
cream crumbling
to cave dark tang
heart like sugar glass
and breaks my
breath like bread
Perhaps it's another manifestation of something like survivor guilt, but I've been compulsively reading http:chezmiscarriage.blogs.com