Minneapolis in the dead of winter
walking straight into the wind.
He laughed at my shoes,
a pair of silk Chinese slippers
I bought for $2 at
a store that smelled of incense,
in complete denial of
the season.
It was a comfort to wear
those little doll shoes,
to let the little girl
in me cry out for something
to remember that
would warm me like coffee
on those endless days of winter
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