took forever to notice her flakiness had become alzheimer's. hard not to mind that after a lifetime of loving beautiful clothes, her locked unit could barely keep people dressed at all, in stained, elastic-waist pants with shirts that didn't match.
I'm a cook. And I write, sometimes about food, mostly poems. I make stuff. I get lost. I'm worried about vanishing bees, melting icecaps, the decrease of civility in the world, seedless watermelons, and whether there will be enough time for me to get it all right.
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