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December 14, 2013 / barton smock

winter

for all I know it’s your father’s job to come home too sober to lift your mother’s fingers from the piano keys. I fell asleep on a heater vent once and with my acne won a phantom game of tic tac toe. when people ask me my name and I tell them they ask my whole and I tell them I have only a middle. my own father was a figure others cut from their work. my mother was made of money. if being provided for is the same as being loved we’d all be christian. by people I mean whole sections of the population.

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