To my Grandmother

that horse of a fly

such a little bite
on your hearts chest
and you bloom like a flower
like the start
of the roll of a cart
 
feel the rain of his check
hear his voice as he begged
and he cried
and he sighed
and he didn’t say why
 
see a bed with a bug
and it’s warm but it bites
smell the pillow
hope it holds you tight
and you sigh
you’re not gonna cry
 
watch the rise of the sun
fly away little bird
don’t feel absurd
 
sleep alone for now
one night you’ll slip 
not even realize he is there
like before he closed his eyes
 
This poem is about: 
My family

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