Incomplete Password- An Open Letter to Myself by Anabell Donovan

All things considered,and in the harsh lightof this day, this moment,Fall’s wet woolen blanketdrapes my shoulders,freezes and scrapeswith self doubt. Thin bovines and beaten earsin a cycle of years,and a disturbed pharaohloses sleep. Where is the dreamer,the fattened bovinesand healthy ears? Padded phrases weigh in,“not a good fit,”“mismatched skills.” The incomplete crosswordhangs in the joints,measures the selfwith prompt efficiency. The […]

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