My daughter says that if we bury him we will grow a new pet.
In her address book, names were followed by their date of death.
She never left North Carolina
He arrived from New York for a visit. I wore my favorite white dress and he took me for a walk on the nearby coal piles.
She told me that some people fade faster than others
We were part of a family secret
One day made the difference
My response to everything became: I do what I want.
I began to see my past as a series of cliches.
He once lived; now we are unsure of his name.
That we were children together is not an excuse
We had stopped speaking.
That was the year she saw us for our faults