Ode to My Daughter

Ode to My Daughter

Circa 1955:

“My mother was like sand. The kind that warms you on a beach when you come shivering out of the cold water. The kind that clings to your body, leaving its impression on your skin to remind you where you’ve been and where you’ve come from.”
–Clare Vanderpool, author of Moon Over Manifes
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I want to be loved like that.