T. J. Robinson

A circle of birds on a wire.

Fly Little Baby Bird

I could see the parts of her that reminded me of him: the high forehead, the bulge of her eyelids, the dimple in her chin. Then I searched for parts of myself: the flecked color of her eyes, the upturn of her nose, the curve of her lower lip. But it was the other parts of her, the pieces I didn’t recognize at all, that scared me.

Read Fly Little Baby Bird on Belle Hombre, published 15 April 2020.

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