Spreading her gold on
the unheated guest room bed,
hoping to find her diamond
stud, she says again why
she can’t wear her high-end
hearing aids that crackle, catch
in her heat-damaged strands,
bangles, retells the tennis
bracelet story—one July years after
the insurance paid, she saw it
sparkling in daisies, a miracle,
but anyways she better go,
she’s lost the feeling in her hand
& hates this stupid phone.
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