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My sister, today on Craggie's birthday, I can only imagine your celebrations, all that he'd told me of your happiness. Then cut short, hopefully rejoined.

In my recent dream he was ordering a conch salad with cheese, happily standing in an outdoor cafe by the shore line. Maybe you both did once, a past in Key West, on his birthday, your beloved, energies entwined.

He died earlier this year, we were not told.

"You can't rival the dead for love. Lose every time..."
Toni Morrison, Jazz