Tag Archives: Kim Dela Cruz

Incept

Twenty years ago, my mother swallowed a seed that grew so big it had to be cut from her belly. This was her time to cede, with grace, her summer beauty. Father once cradled a pea in the cave of … Continue reading

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I left the porch light on for you

But through the window glass came the crane fly’s filtered shadow tapping at the door, asking: has anybody seen my missing mouth? Kim Dela Cruz is a Boston-area poet, pun-lover, and freelance editor. Her most recently published work can be found … Continue reading

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