My mother started cutting when I was nine. On Sunday afternoons, she'd sit at the kitchen table arranging coupons into what looked like a coupon-themed game of Solitaire. She'd tuck a few under he ... [+]
Paper plates, paper cups.
Pink frosting on the
Heavy handle of my fork.
Flushed faces, shining eyes.
Laughter like the ocean,
Never ceasing.
Pink frosting on the
Heavy handle of my fork.
Flushed faces, shining eyes.
Laughter like the ocean,
Never ceasing.