Photographs of love ones I don’t want to give up,
I wonder if I can tether to me, the snapshots of mannerisms I see bend the corners of my uncles grin. He is still who I remember as child. A man who was meant to speak. His candor stuck with strong precision, and his cadence billed a gentle, punchy velvet tone. He reminded me of a 1970’s talk show host, but with a more playful poise and pacifying certainty. As one of my mother’s older cousins, I’m guessing the 70’s was his coming of age. Perhaps the 70’s were never...
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