03/25/2026
‘at the thrift store in tears because i miss my grandmother who is fifteen years dead’ (2026)
i am reminded of you here, in between the antique pyrex mixing bowls i can’t afford right now, the old salt & pepper shakers, burnt orange & neon yellow crocheted trivets, the find-me-not tchotchkes painted by hand, the $1.00 green barb section, the $.50 cent rack, & the old ritz cracker canister just like the one in your kitchen on randolph —
i think momma has it now, & she should have it if she doesn’t. if i breathe in deeply enough, i can smell your signature scent in the air; powdery & brave. i can see the velvety texture of your skin. (what would you say about my nose piercings? something like: “child, why you got all them damn holes
in yo nose?” & we would laugh.
& you would laugh with your shoulders.
