by Lacadalet Magazine | |
Published on: Aug 12, 2010 | |
Topic: | |
Type: Poetry | |
https://www.tigweb.org/express/panorama/article.html?ContentID=29691 | |
As young girls lying under the flowered roof we played those school games. I was 10 and you 12. Your mother isn't here any more. We can play as long as we want, but we haven't any dinner. “You are my sister,” she said. “And your mother takes cocaine.” We both played alone. « return. |