My Dumb Heart

                  —To my fellow Benders, I threw on my grief.   MY DUMB HEART   is open wide and overflows with water. How I manage to stay alive is beyond me. I like to think that I am more than a wallflower, that others see something in me, that the love I feel swells out…

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Dear Emily—

  —Hope is the thing with feathers.   Here is a truth: I thrive on hope. But yet, here is another: if you fill a pillow with feathers, I cannot sleep— I wake in the middle of the night, heavy-chested and warm, throwing off the dark as if it were a spare blanket meant for…

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