Thursday, July 13, 2017

Tracks Comments

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There are tracks I left in the lake, in the puddle, near the market
in the aisle, near the pantry, at night of warm hands in every bead of Hail Mary.

There are tracks I left in the kitchen, in the window, facing the cemetery that peaceful haze of my cooking, your lunch and dinner.
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Rosalinda Flores Martinez
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