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All night Tippi and I lie with our armswrapped around each otherlike rope.I bury my face in her neckand she wakes every now and thento kiss the top of my head
He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.
This is my story.It is mine alone because I am the one who needsto tell it.I am the one who is still here,no longer stage right but
When Mom says
she's decided to go back to work,
you're not too surprised,
'cause you know
how much she misses
being around horses
since Dad moved
Next door live three old ladies. They’re sisters, well into their eighties, but to us kids, they seem beyond time.
I am on the bathroom floorscreeching,Tippi shaking me back into the world.
Why couldn't your dad
be a musician
like Jimmy Leon's dad
or own an oil company
Better yet, why couldn't