Mama, the Caller in My Frame

Mama appears in my frame more than anyone else.

Sometimes she’s the subject. Other times she’s the anchor that settles me long enough to really see. Often she’s my decoy: the stand-in body that lets me focus on the world around her. Through my Mama, I’ve always been able to measure distance.

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Over the Atlantic, I Practice Remembering

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The Window That Keeps Calling Me