About Lena Larkspur™

Typist. Gardener. Keeper of a ledger no one has asked to read.

I grow things. Larkspur, mostly. Some herbs. I know what they’re for.

I have been told I think too much of my hurts. I have tried to think less. I am told I have not yet succeeded at this either.

I came to Harlem because a woman on the radio laughed in the middle of her own song and my chest said there. I am aware this is not a reason a reasonable woman acts on. I am here anyway.

I type well. I keep good records. I know the older mathematics — the kind that lives in the wrist, not the column. I have been told this is not useful knowledge. I have kept it regardless.

I have a ledger. I am filling it.

I am trying to decide what I am allowed to say out loud.