A Suicide
I nodded towards him
Over the plums
Dark red and sweet
He nodded back
He looked so sad
We met again, aisle three
Between canned corn and flour
He told
I gave my condolences
He looked so sad
He picked up a bag of flour
Said he had lost his appetite
He told
Picked up a bag of sugar
He looked so sad
He made me think of my tight-lipped grandmother:
“No parent should have to bury a child”
He told
Picked up another bag of sugar
He looked so sad
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