the last time I saw her before she died,
my grandma dropped an egg on the floor
she told me to hold the frying pan
just like
that,
wrist loose and a nice grip
like I would a tennis racket
I've always been terrible at sports
I kept my wrists rigid like
branches
she dropped the egg on
the floor
and there was something
pretty
about the way it crumbled
into itself
like ashes
from a crematorium
every time
I see an egg I imagine
my grandmother inside
red lipstick
reborn from
the fireplace
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