These were inspired by the sudden retirement of Polly\u2019s physician husband and her own tour guide retirement, due to the pandemic. They live in a small condo in downtown DC.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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1\nDid I ever say\nthat I love your fierce blue eyes?\nYou\u2019ve bedazzled me.\n\n\n2\nI grew up in storms,\nmy frayed strands relaced by your\nequanimity.\n\n\n3\nOnce, in Mexico,\nI danced with another man.\nYour pain impaled me.\n\n\n4\nThe structure of days\nbeats to the rhythm of your\nexits and entries.\n\n\n5\nFifty years I\u2019ve spent,\nsmoothing the sheets of our bed.\nI\u2019m getting nowhere.\n\n\n6\nMy sister tells me\nI have a jealous husband.\nIndubitably.\n\n\n7\nBravadoed by love,\nI make my demand that you\u00a0\nsmoke your joint outside.\n\n\n8\nI\u2019m a human mole\u2014\ndark holes my fav\u2019rite spaces\u2014whilst you crave the sun.\n\n\n9\nI have been a wife\nfor most of my life, but have\nI been a good one?\n\n\n10\nYour optimism\nis endlessly annoying\nbecause it\u2019s endless.\n\n\n11\nFollowing the crumbs,\nI know where you sat last night,\nsorting out our life.\n\n\n12\nRegulatory\nmatters in the house are mine.\nYou? Such a dreamer.\n\n\n13\nYou\u2019re a persistent\ninterruptor, earnestness\ntrumping etiquette.\n\n\n14\nSuch a stinky man,\nwith all hell\u2019s smells broken loose\nafter your bike ride.\n\n\n15\nI know you love me.\nYou do all the things I hate,\nlike drying dishes.\n\n\n16\nCan I ever be\nthe things you want me to be?\nI\u2019m a frozen girl.\n\n\n17\nI saut\u00e9 my grief\nstanding by the frying pan,\nrecalling mistakes.\n\n\n18\nIt\u2019s hard to believe\nthat once I never knew you.\nSo many lost days.\n\n\n19\nI sit in my chair\nand you sit in yours. Shall we\ndare to eat a peach?\n\n\n20\nEvery night in bed,\nyou scratch me with your toenail.\nI kick you away.\n\n\n21\nI edit your words,\nas I wonder whence they come,\u00a0\ntumbling all around.\n\n\n22\nIf I tailed your trail\nin our condo for a day,\nI\u2019d be a pretzel.\n\n\n23\nI pick a poem\nfrom a tree and tart it up,\u00a0\ntangy new for you.\n\n\n24\nMen are just like eggs.\nBulwarked tightly in their shells\nbut subject to breach.\n\n\n25\nOnce you were a monk.\nBut I guess they threw you out\nbecause you\u2019re a nut.\n\n\n26\nIf you let me be\njust now, I\u2019ll be tenderer\nupon your return.\n\n\n27\nToo many poems\nbeginning with \u201cif.\u201d It\u2019s time\nto talk about \u201cwhen.\u201d\n\n\n28\nIf proximity\u2019s\u00a0\na key to love, might I ask\nwhere the hell you\u2019ve been?\n\n\n29\nHow many poems\nmust I write, to circumscribe\u00a0\nour duplexity? \u00a0\n\n\n30\nCheerios pickup\u00a0\nnow required, due to AM\ncrunching underfoot.\n\n\n31\nAlways cajoling me.\u00a0\nYou\u2019re such a rascally man.\nI know all your tricks.\n\n\n32\nI was just fourteen\nwhen I first saw your smooth face\nin someone\u2019s yearbook.\u00a0\n\n\n33\nI didn\u2019t know you\u00a0\nwhen we married. It was all\u00a0\nso accidental.\u00a0\n\n\n34\nWhen we were first wed,\u00a0\nI was a better liar\nthan Pinocchio.\n\n\n35\nWith experience,\u00a0\nI\u2019ve come to know, haiku are\u00a0\nbetter read than said.\n\n\n36\nWill you tickle me?\nWe need to cure my \u201cno-smile\u201d\ndisability.\u00a0\n\n\n37\nI see you found the\nchoc\u2019late chips again last night.\nNo cookies today.\n\n\n38\nHow can a writer\nas upbeat as you, brush off\nexclamation points?\n\n\n39\nWhat does it say that\nyour best pals are humankind,\nmy best friends are trees?\n\n\n40\u00a0\nEach day, as a rule,\nwe have space for two. Today\nyou\u2019re looming over.\u00a0\n\n\n41\nLet\u2019s grow trees inside.\u00a0\nCrowns of boughs and twigs will arc,\u00a0\nhiding the ductwork.\u00a0\n\n\n42\nWho would you become\nif I relinquished my claim?\nLove\u2019s a gnarly cage.\u00a0\n\n\n43\nWe walk, concealing\u00a0\nthe pain in our hips and knees,\u00a0\nrefuting frailty.\u00a0\n\n\n44\nI cut a foot off\nthe hem of my wedding dress,\u00a0\nshowing you my thighs.\u00a0\n\n\n45\nRetrospectively,\nI was a shrew of a wife.\nPlease state why you stayed.\n\n\n46\nI\u2019ll go kneel under\nthe Forgiving Tree and hope\nour children show up.\n\n\n47\nPyromaniac\u00a0\nNeeded: What once sparked joy, now\u00a0\nresists disposal.\u00a0\n\n\n48\nMy parents excelled\nat flaw-finding, as did I. \u00a0\nYou are gently blind.\n\n\n49\nI married you for\u00a0\nyour kindness, a trait that first\nI found confusing.\n\n\n50\nYou\u2019d like me to bike,\u00a0\nbut I don\u2019t care to flash past\u00a0\nfast and miss the world.\u00a0\n\n\n51\nSomewhere there was love\u00a0\nI think, in my parents\u2019 house. Boxed and closeted.\n\n\n52\nDo we blandify\u00a0\nand decomplex each other\u00a0\nwith propinquity?\u00a0\n\n\n53\nPoems dropping from\u00a0\nthe sky. Ignore or proceed?\nTherapy or pen?\n\n\n54\u00a0\nI\u2019ve got some instinct\nplus flawed introspection. Not sure you wanted those.\u00a0\n\n\n55\nPlanning our future\nhas become a conundrum\nas the years crater.\u00a0\n\n\n56\nYou\u2019re complex: loving\nthe paper, hating the news,\nsometimes the reverse.\u00a0\n\n\n57\nAt night, asleep, you\nsoftly whisper things. Last night\nyou said \u201cfootball game.\u201d\n\n\n58\nIs it romantic\u00a0\nor pathetic? We\u2019re two, at\nour table for four.\u00a0\n\n\n59\nI didn\u2019t want to\u00a0\nbring up Cheerios again.\nBut you\u2019ve forced me to.\u00a0\n\n\n60\nI shovel black things\u00a0\ninto a hole. You make them\u00a0\nbright thoughts on a page.\u00a0\n\n\n61\nYup. You\u2019re preening some.\u00a0\nBut I\u2019ll accord you\u2019ve cause for still a little more.\u00a0\n\n\n62\nI don\u2019t enjoy fun.\u00a0\nIt\u2019s too unruly for me.\u00a0\nWhere are the edges?\n\n\n63\nI\u2019m amazed at the\u00a0\ntime it takes you to complete\nannounced departures.\u00a0\n\n\n64\nYour idleness is\u00a0\npowerful, by luck quashed by\nan odd diligence.\u00a0\n\n\n65\nI caught you reading\non the couch in scant attire,\u00a0\ncheerfully lazy.\n\n\n66\nLast night I dreamt you\ntold me you had died. But here\nyou are, hugging me.\u00a0\n\n\n67\nIn the past, we were\u00a0\nmore competitive. (I might\u00a0\nhave been the stoker.)\n\n\n68\nIf we become all\noutput, where to get input\nfor our new output?\n\n\n69\nOur first house was a\u00a0\nplaything, covered in emblems\nthought up by hippies.\u00a0\n\n\n70\nWhat is it you want\nme to see, in that closet\nthat you never close?\n\n\n71\nIf I don\u2019t curb my\u00a0\nfondness for thrift, we\u2019ll shortly\nbe eating eggshells.\u00a0\n\n\n72\nAs a child, I feared\nthe Commies in the closet.\u00a0\nNow I fear the stuff.\u00a0\n\n\n73\nI don\u2019t spy on you\nfor haiku reasons only.\nI also like you.\u00a0\n\n\n74\nThanks for cooking and\u00a0\nfor savoring the doing.\u00a0\nIt\u2019s my Golgotha.\n\n\n75\nIf I go away,\nyou might notice dust and dirt.\nBut probably not.\u00a0\n\n\n76\nI never supposed\nyour losing hearing would still\nthe voices of birds.\n\n\n77\nIf they cut my brain,\ntheoretically, they\u2019ll\nfind a piece of you.\n\n\n78\nI like when you cut\nmy hair, your touch gently firm,\nyour breath on my neck.\n\n\n79\nSooner or later\nyou\u2019ll slap duct tape on me when\nI yap about trees.\n\n\n80\nI can\u2019t describe you\nin seventeen syllables,\nergo these poems.\n\n\n81\nI\u2019m a terrible\nlistener. You listen well\nbut can\u2019t hear a thing.\n\n\n82\nA homeless man roots\nin our trash in the alley.\nWe sleep ten floors up.\n\n\n83\nRigidly, I eat\na pancake every day, but\nyou don\u2019t laugh at me.\n\n\n84\nYou are still thoughtful.\nAfter all this time and all\nmy provocations.\n\n\n85\nWhen the trees talk, they\ntell you your wife is crazy.\nYou\u2019re hearing voices.\n\n\n86\nThe traces of you\nare ubiquitous here. They\u2019re\nmostly fingerprints.\n\n\n87\nOnce you begged, Don\u2019t leave,\nyou\u2019ll love me again next week.\nYou were right, of course.\n\n\n88\nYou\u2019re like an echo\nof your father, supplied with\nready forgiveness.\n\n\n89\nWe see lovers on\ntheir balconies in an arc\nthat sweeps around us.\n\n\n90\nEv\u2019ry night you burn\nyour toast, while standing against\nthe counter musing.\n\n\n91\nOur slumber is a\ndeep space, for collation of\nsundry bits of self.\n\n\n92\nHistory likes to\ncount lust over love. Which one\u2019s\nmore significant?\n\n\n93\nWhen I was prepared\nto abandon us, you were\nstrict about \u201cI do.\u201d\n\n\n94\nStrange Covid factoid:\nwe are busy, bored and blithe\nconcomitantly.\n<\/strong>\n\n95\nCovid paradox:\nour marriage expanded when\nsqueezed by circumstance.<\/strong>\n\n\n96\nWhat will manifest\nin June when we exit our\ndouble-wide cocoon? *\n\n\n*now June 2021\n\n\n97\nI\u2019m sorry I made\u00a0\nyou cookies. I\u2019ve abetted\u00a0\nyour hopeless diet.\u00a0\n\n\n98\nYou can come out of\nhiding now. I know you ate\nthe last of the cake.\u00a0\n\n\n99\nMy foot crunched on a\ncracker today. At times you leave some large debris.\u00a0\n\n\n100\nCan I really write\ntwo hundred poems about\u00a0\nus?\u00a0\u00a0What will that do?\n\n\n101\nI wake up at three,\u00a0\nan irremediable\neccentricity.\u00a0\n\n\n102\nThe view from our place\nis better than God\u2019s but you\nmay not tell her that.\n\n\n103\nI look out alone\u00a0\nat three AM, when the moon\u00a0\nis full of itself.\n\n\n104\nI asked too much from\nyou when I begged you to move,\u00a0\nbut you indulged me.\n\n\n105\nI was most struck with\u00a0\nlove when you buzzed your hair down\nto a quarter inch.\u00a0\n\n\n106\nThe nuns said parents\u00a0\nlove their children. At home, love\nwas ambivalence.\n\n\n107\nYou\u2019ve a gift I wish\u00a0\nI had: when to say words and\nwhen to say nothing.\n\n\n108\nI slide in my dream\u00a0\ndown a slope of chopped words, a\nhill shaved smooth by you.\n\n\n109\nYou cook without fear\nof stupid ingredients\u00a0\nfilling our cupboards.\u00a0\n\n\n110\nI\u2019ll play with you in\npoetry, but not our kids.\nTheir lives are sacred.\u00a0\n\n\n111\nWhen you say \u201cmy wife,\u201d\u00a0\nI feel safe in the caress\nof your possession.\u00a0\n\n\n112\nThe paper flapping,\u00a0\nyou scuffle with the wind out\non the balcony.\u00a0\n\n\n113\nI close my curtain\nand you slide your door. A\nthoughtful estrangement.\u00a0\n\n\n114\nIf, like my mother,\u00a0\nI mislay my sanity,\nthis is my goodbye.\n\n\n115\nSuch a noble dome\u00a0\nis yours. Phrenological\nperfection hatted.\n\n\n116\nI dye my hair to\u00a0\nplease you, and in so doing,\nwe are both content.\u00a0\n\n\n117\nWe ration our space,\u00a0\u00a0\ncompartmentalization\nsupporting our bliss.\u00a0\n\n\n118\nRef\u2019rencing you with\u00a0\nthe word \u201cineffable\u201d means\u00a0\nI\u2019ll have to shut up.\u00a0\n\n\n119\nIf you don\u2019t get that\u00a0\nlast haiku, you should look up\u00a0\nineffable too.\u00a0\n\n\n120\nWe\u2019ll be left a null\nset by the morbidity\nof covidity.\n\n\n121\nPandemically,\u00a0\nare we simply matter or\u00a0\ndo we two matter?\n\n\n122\nExtra-marital\u00a0\nfriendship has vanished, whilst the\u00a0\nvirus stalks the land.\u00a0\n\n\n123\nNonsensical is\u00a0\na word I haven\u2019t used, but\u00a0\nsomewhere it pertains.\u00a0\n\n\n124\nOur garden\u2019s made of\u00a0\nasphalt, brick and sky. We\u00a0\nreap\u00a0\nits views of humans.\u00a0\n\n\n125\nIf we didn\u2019t have\u00a0\nthe moon, I might hate the sun.\nAll blast and no shine.\n\n\n126\nWe\u2019re still embarrassed\u00a0\nsometimes, when we\u00a0\nsurprise one\u00a0\nanother unclothed.\n\n\n127\nWere we marooned on\u00a0\nan island, I suspect you\u2019d\nrelish the swimming.\u00a0\n\n\n128\nAt last a haiku\u00a0\nfrom you. (Should I see this as\na usurpation?)*\n\n\n*On the street below\nmy wife in purple waves up\nto me on my perch.\n\n\n129\nYou will never be\naccused of exactingness,\nbut I surely will.\u00a0\n\n\n130\nI haiku-zap you,\u00a0\nhoping to compel you to\nnotice me anew.\n\n\n131\nSometimes love\u2019s remote.\nI stalk past you and you by me.\nBy and by, we\u2019ll meet.\n\n\n132\nI\u2019m searching for my\u00a0\nworth in these haiku, worried\nI won\u2019t find it here.\u00a0\n\n\n133\nWar-married, we met\u00a0\nonce in Hawaii and saw\nthat we were strangers.\u00a0\n\n\n134\nCould it be that love\u2019s\u00a0\nthe mutual acceptance\nof imperfection?\n\n\n135\nIn summer you swim,\u00a0\nunconcerned by roiling waves,\u00a0\ninchmeal toward The Rock.\u00a0\n\n\n136\nOn the same mission\nonce, I nearly drowned. You swam\u00a0\nbeside and calmed me.\u00a0\n\n\n137\nWith your powerful\u00a0\narms, you stroke slowly, like an\nold man in the sea.\u00a0\n\n\n138\u00a0\nWe self-delude we\u2019re\nyoung, making a pleasantry\nout of verity.\n\n\n139\nI\u2019ve just understood\nthere\u2019s no narrative here. I\u2019m\nwriting in circles.\u00a0\n\n\n140\nMy mother appears\u00a0\nin my dreams sometimes, always\nghostly and silent.\u00a0\n\n\n141\nSocially, you\u2019re a\ncombatant. Few have escaped\nyour hello assaults.\u00a0\n\n\n142\nThere\u2019s not a single\u00a0\ndoubt that Adam and Eve got\u00a0\nbored with each other.\n\n\n143\nWe joke about things\nprofane and sacred, seeing\nno contrast between.\n\n\n144\nYou\u2019ve never spent much\ntime in comforting, pushing\nme to earn my self.\n\n\n145\nWriting about love\nreshapes the puzzle parts for\nreanalysis.\u00a0\n\n\n146\nWords fly out of my\u00a0\nbrain, bouncing like flubber. They\u2019re\nvery hard to catch.\u00a0\n\n\n147\nI suspect, with age,\u00a0\nthey\u2019re bursting through the\nweak spots\u00a0\nof suppressed recall.\u00a0\n\n\n148\nThe pink in your cheeks\nreplicated itself in\u00a0\none of our children.\u00a0\n\n\n149\nIn bed at night I\u00a0\nbreathe your breath. Fortunately,\u00a0\nit\u2019s aromatic.\u00a0\n\n\n150\nWe have so little\u00a0\ntime now. I can\u2019t define the worth of your nearness.\u00a0\n\n\n151\nTo sleep on a flight,\u00a0\nyou took a pill. I hated\nI couldn\u2019t wake you.\n\n\n152\nIs love like physics?\u00a0\nI fear that emotions at\u00a0\nrest might stay that way.\u00a0\n\n\n153\nOur half year in New\u00a0\nZealand stole our eyes. We got them back resculpted.\u00a0\n\n\n154\nWe were gobsmacked to\u00a0\nsee an antipodal sky\nrehearse its own stars.\u00a0\n\n\n155\nI\u2019m caught in a vault\u00a0\nof blooming lindens, their scent\ninvading my skin.\n\n\n156\nThe first time we met,\u00a0\nyour deference spoke to all\nthe right parts of me.\u00a0\n\n\n157\nWe cohabit well\u00a0\nwhen we\u2019re busy. We haven\u2019t tried unbusy yet.\u00a0\n\n\n158\nToday I became\nargumentative, but you\nwinningly parried.\u00a0\n\n\n159\nBrevity should be\nthe soul of poetry to\u00a0\nmake it bearable.\u00a0\n\n\n160\nThe Moon\u2019s not always\nperfect, but I still plan to\nCapitalize it.\u00a0\n\n\n161\nBelow, protesters\u00a0\nand marchers in the street shout\nfor things denied them.\u00a0\n\n\n162\nOutside, looters creep\nup to the drugstore and\u00a0\nsmash\nour trust in humans.\u00a0\n\n\n163\nI\u2019m drowning in a\u00a0\ntsunami of leftover\nvocabulary.\u00a0\n\n\n164\nYou scrawl your heart out\nacross long pages. I cramp\u00a0\nmy angst on half sheets.\n\n\n165\nLet\u2019s mark the day. I\u00a0\nthink we\u2019ve reached the zenith on\u00a0\nour boredom meter.\u00a0\n\n\n166\nWas it because I\u00a0\nwas carrying books that you\npicked me up that day?\n\n\n167\nYou were too normal\u00a0\nyourself to recognize that,\nreally, I wasn\u2019t.\u00a0\n\n\n168\nYou neglected to\u00a0\nask me to marry you. I\nsaid yes anyway.\n\n\n169\nLove can\u2019t remain as\nastonishing as before.\u00a0\nIt becomes sweet balm.\u00a0\n\n\n170\nMemories should be\nroutinely re-inspected\nfor strange mutations.\u00a0\n\n\n171\nWhy don\u2019t we make a\u00a0\ngarden inside? We need the\u00a0\nguidance of flowers.\u00a0\n\n\n172\nIf I bury the\u00a0\nworst of me in a yard, a\ndog might dig it up.\u00a0\n\n\n173\nIf I bury the\u00a0\nbest, I might regret that I\nnever employed it.\n\n\n174\nYou\u2019re rarely incensed.\nOn occasions of such, you\u2019re\u00a0\na fiery thing.\u00a0\n\n\n175\nWe used to call your\u00a0\nfather King. Ne\u2019er was a king\u00a0\nso truly humble.\u00a0\n\n\n176\nThere\u2019s so much more to\ntell you, and so little I\u00a0\nremember to say.\u00a0\n\n\n177\nThere\u2019s a universe,\u00a0\nbut love as a topic could\noverflow the place.\u00a0\n\n\n178\nMy parents were strange,\namazeballs contributors\u00a0\nto the baby boom.\n\n\n179\nMy mother was a\u00a0\ngrand multipara, but we\njust called her Mummy.\u00a0\n\n\n180\nMy semblance isn\u2019t\nmy own. Just one was carved, and\u00a0\nshared among sisters.\u00a0\n\n\n181\nWe danced on the head\u00a0\nof a pin, but there wasn\u2019t\nroom for all of us.\u00a0\n\n\n182\nWe misconstrue if\u00a0\nwe think consanguinity\u00a0\nmeans obligation.\u00a0\n\n\n183\nMy father, three times,\ntreated me with a kindness\nthat bewildered me.\u00a0\u00a0\n\n\n184\nThe devil is in\u00a0\nthe discernment of what love\u2019s precisely made of.\n\n\n185\nI thought what parents\u00a0\ndid was always love. Somewhere\u00a0\nI got confounded.\u00a0\n\n\n186\nOn the bridge back to\u00a0\nProvidence, I turned and said, Love, I get it now.\n\n\n187\nMuch of me\u2019s shut off,\nlike a ship hull\u2019s compartments,\u00a0\nsealed against a flood.\u00a0\n\n\n188\nA psych once asked me,\u00a0\n\u201cShall we open that door?\u201d What\na silly question.\u00a0\n\n\n189\nIt makes me sad when\nI look at photos and see\u00a0\nthat I was happy.\n\n\n190\nI need to mention\u00a0\nmaudlin. I\u2019m afraid that word\u2019s\u00a0\nmy main descriptor.\u00a0\n\n\n191\nMy eyelids shivered\nwhen you kissed them this morning.\u00a0\nI can still feel them.\u00a0\n\n\n192\nWe don\u2019t discuss our\ndeaths. We like harder themes like\nUS politics.\n\n\n193\nWe\u2019ve senesced, our skin\u2019s\nthinned. The world presses on us\nmore insistently.\u00a0\n\n\n194\nThere\u2019ll come a day just\none of us is left, adrift,\u00a0\nwanting humdrum back.\n\n\n195\nOur sun\u2019s a two-faced\nthing, luring sweet leaves in spring,\u00a0\nscorching them later.\u00a0\n\n\n196\nThe bag on my head\u00a0\nimpairing my vision was\nlabeled \u201cReligion.\u201d\n\n\n197\nI\u2019m sorry for the\u00a0\ntoenail joke. Touches are good,\u00a0\nthe sharpest recalled.\u00a0\n\n\n198\nI\u2019ve seen a few jars,\u00a0\ncanopic ones. I ponder\u00a0\nhow you\u2019ll squish me in.\u00a0\n\n\n199\nI\u2019ve been abandoned\nby eloquence, so fleeting\u2019s\nthe gifting of words.\n\n\n200\nMy knowledge of you,\nI know, is not complete. How\ncould it ever be?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n<\/pre>\n\n\n\nThis pic includes, at left, the graffitied pedestal of a Confederate general, Albert Pike, located 4 blocks from us. The statue was toppled and set afire by protesters.<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Although originally from Newport, Rhode Island, Polly and her husband Michael Stout spent 34 years in Columbia, South Carolina before moving to Washington, DC in 2014. Polly has an MA in Art History from the University of South Carolina in Columbia, SC. Polly has been prolifically writing Haiku (\u4ff3\u53e5): a type of short form poetry originally from Japan.…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1916","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","empty-entry-meta"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/garcialemos.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1916","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/garcialemos.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/garcialemos.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/garcialemos.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/garcialemos.me\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1916"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/garcialemos.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1916\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1929,"href":"https:\/\/garcialemos.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1916\/revisions\/1929"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/garcialemos.me\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1916"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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