Kimberly Vargas Agnese

Illusory

I caught myself 
            i

        n

            s

       i

             d

      e
 a foxhole built with 

what-if bills and fears about how no one could see the birds of the air.
I sat on a small, proud stool of practicality.

And yet, in spite of all my worry, 

the flowers never went naked.

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