My mother pretended to be deaf. Then, I saw her. Shoes left somewhere behind Pressed golden suit now unkempt Black hair whipping past like a horse’s tail in the wind Sprinting up a nearby aisle My eyes following her every flailing movement Bawling like she was being beaten. Hollering like she was being hunted. Plummeting like she was being pushed. Right on the altar. Right in front of everyone. Right under God.
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