AT MY SISTER’S WEDDING, SHE SMIRKED AND SAID, “GO FIND ANOTHER TABLE, ADOPTED GIRL”

of gold against the clouds, and somewhere under them three hundred people were still whispering, and my sister was learning the price of a sentence.

I didn’t look at the gold.

I looked at the road.

—

If this one got under your skin the way it got under mine, pass it to someone who’s spent too long sitting by the kitchen doors.

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