Annette
Burning with fever
I tried to sit up
on the cracked, plastic sofa
to sip the orange bean
soup she’d placed
next to my head, but heaviness
pushed me
down
the air was heat, mixed vapors,
natural gas rising
angels from the radiator next
to the sloped window.
My lumpish eyes looked out
to see her bending,
pulling water
up
from the well.
clc
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