Sometimes the world is so bursting with inspiration it hits me over the head. That's what happened today. I was tucking some clothes away in the crawl space and letters and photographs rained down from the walls.
Of course I read them. They were over 20 years old and written from various women, all to the same man, all within the same 3 year period, all about how much they long for him, love him, culminating in a 14 page letter written by the jilted woman who was carrying this mans child!
And so I am crackling with fictive energy, pregnant with poetry!
cursive hearts hidden
still beat, fatherless
children still breath
Am I a terrible person for finding these letters? For reading them? For sharing some of the most poignant excerpts on my blog?
(Names have been changed)
Mary: I just got one of my sculptures fired (actually 2 of them) but one I'm really pleased with. It broke and I
need to repair it but I think I can do it so it won't be obvious.
Cath: P.S. I left the earring on your dresser so it should be there if you found the
other in your truck.
Josie: (expect me when you least expect me
with the baby in me or in my arms)
I ache for these women. I too have attempted to repair beautiful broken things, left talismans behind, worn our child like a wedding ring.
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