Rows of Houses, by Leah Bobet

when her heart beat, I was home, and nothingneeded changing. the clouds retched sunlightthrough the halls; she threw the blinds and howled. all along the cul-de-sac, the painted bright homessmiled; our house grew greyer, grander by thehour. the plumbing dripped red mornings, ductsgasped afternoons: the tissue shreds of words she’dthought of saying. the walls were …

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