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The lovely sunseed was in
the ground on that night, but
the neighbours were mad that
we used up all the water, so
they took away their support
of our family. My sister left
and said that she didn’t want any
more drama and she was sick
of it, sick of the cancer, sick
of the way everybody looked at
us. The night was cold, but
the sky had different pieces
in it, that drifted down and
danced like Turkish mystics
and they whirled until my
sister turned around and looked at my
mom and said that she was sorry
that she let her hysteria control
how she promised to do
her singing and then her
voice rose above and she dedicated
it to the married woman, but we all knew
that it was my mom, because she is golden
like the earth in the morning and married
like a moon to the night.