grandma—you live in your Obsession perfume bottle, i talk to it every day, telling you how good you smell, that i long for your root beer kisses that stay sticky on my cheek, that you are magic. grandma—you live in your flannel & it goes unwashed for too long, but if i can call you mom on accident again and go without socks in the house, i promise to clean it. grandma—you live in my rosary beads, that i never hold loose, & i beg you every day for something that i cannot control without being soothed— say Julie one more time… spoon feed me sweet truths catch the word more on my lip trying to slip out
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