Hawai‘i Sonnet 70

I would be lying if I said
I have no family stories.
All families do, and some of mine
are definitely the stuff of joyful telling.
Others I hold safe, my secrets
locked up tight in my heart,
a constant silent retelling
in my mind, smoke searched
and researched, unsolved
rippling mysteries, twisting riddles.
These are those deadfall solitary stories
the caged ones you feel might kill you
if you ever whisper them, even to yourself,
the tales that prowl your tossing dreams.

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