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Mourning Pieces (III)

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Jan. 30th, 2012 | 08:32 pm

In my dream, my father is asleep. His face is soft. He’s on top of the comforter and under the old blue blanket, too small to cover him, that he uses for naps. Our house is on fire, and there’s no time—I cannot wake him, he cannot hear my voice.

In my dream, he is trapped in a car underwater. I open the trunk, and things wash out towards me and over me, everything he ever gave me. A ten-dollar bill. A twenty-dollar bill. A fifty-dollar bill. Two fifty-dollar bills. A check for one hundred dollars. A thousand dollars for the semester I couldn’t pay for. Fifteen hundred for my wedding. And a watch. It all floats out of the trunk and falls over me, the bills brushing my face, touching my shoulders, stroking my hair, the watch wrapping gently around my wrist.






Mourning Pieces I
Mourning Pieces II
Mourning Pieces IV
Mourning Pieces V

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Comments {2}

A Karmic Sandbox

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from: karmasoup
date: Jan. 31st, 2012 07:40 pm (UTC)
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I am dreaming every night about my Mother right now, in the next few days while she's still alive, though I think I'm creating a habit I won't be able to stop once she's gone. I wake sad and empty, but I can't stop... I can so feel you here.

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Andrea Blythe

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from: blythe025
date: Feb. 2nd, 2012 12:50 am (UTC)
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This is lovely and presents an interesting contrast to the rest of the work, showing an inner dream life. Lovely.

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