Tag Archives: Tiffani Foster

Mockingbird Lane

They set the kitchen on fire, again. Never been to the ballet, but I imagine the legs look like small fires – twirling, kicking photos from the bookcase, before the walls grow black and ashes gather, like ants. After each … Continue reading

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Your Daughter’s Hands

I loved her because she was made of you. Her stubby fingers couldn’t button buttons, but they could rip apart zippers and stretch your white t-shirt, permanently. I say this knowing I’ve always loved everything made of you even before … Continue reading

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Much ado about Birth Control

Take a look at these side effects: Midnight ice cream runs in your cartoon slippers. Less acne medication. Sleeping naked without the covers – in the middle of Alabama winter (we’ll only remember our pills in winter). Being sad ’cause … Continue reading

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The Soup Kitchen

Rainy days are made for soup shops and the soft guitar strumming over the loudspeaker. Everyone knows this, so we all line up at the counter on our bellies, or order. An older lady asks about the salt content of … Continue reading

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