Segue to Hemingway
the theatre
where you
took tickets
such a long
time ago
Me in a pink
dress
you, poor,
and proud
to get
the discounts
moving
from house
to house
like it was
the most normal
thing in the
world
a good one
to you and
your brothers,
fantasy books
which I mocked
inside my head,
at the age of 17
I thought I was
special because
I read Hemingway,
a man who would
have burned
roast some pheasants
with a dry martini
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