The world has
kept right on spinning
as if our footsteps
upon the incline
would keep us
from careening
out of orbit.
Little secrets
like the naked lady
flipbook
behind the bar.
The interloper
not because of his color
but because he had a throwing star.
Sisters,
and hidden doorways
with windows
leading to mysteries beyond.
Bear cave nature walks
unearthing the lighter
belonging to my aunt’s first husband
or the idea the
other aunt wasn’t
a sister, but a daughter.
Always,
the last to know.
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