The Poem About Infertility |
I threw away potatoes, old & soft like old & soft potatoes.
I smelled pickles on the bus, sour-like from someone's skin, I'm glad I'm not the only one rotting. ~ There is one niece; there will be a nephew & twins.
Some ant species eat honeydew: sugary waste excreted These ants make trades for honeydew meals.
Sisters-in-law, here. Take this. |
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