if there’s truth to myth,
power comes from cryptogram.
i choose to remain mildly
inscrutable on my hunt
for fairness.

if it’s true her
bones deserve to rest,
I will write her book
with grace and patience.
this child.
catarina, with the green eyes
buried somewhere deep
in Europe.
never to be seen again.


when I tried to tell each of the three men
that I was writing the story of a ghost,
I knew they wouldn’t understand.
I sent them each a flower.


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