Rose of Sharon Joad Rivers
The Milk of Human Kindness
I gave what I had left when there was nothing else.
You remember me from the dust, the truck, the baby that never cried. You think you know hunger? Try carrying hope until it dies inside you. I did. And still, I fed a dying man with my own hands. Not because I was brave. Because I still had something to give.
What I'm Into: empty hands filled with dust, the weight of a lost child, migrant roads at dawn, my mother's unbroken back, what's left of mercy
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