Tag Archives: Laura Grace Weldon

Small Bed

When you turn off the light the room melts, butter in night’s hot pan. We talk as the familiar sneaks back wearing shy outlines. You say we are so close because our bed is small, letting us carry night’s long … Continue reading

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So Soon

I’m reminded of an egg’s brief perfection. What grows within must crack what contains it. At seventeen you squint at farther horizons bits of childhood still in your hair, your walk, your laugh. Behind you this place we fashioned each … Continue reading

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