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  • When I raised my hand, the teacher
    painted my face with your blood
    and the heat and salt of it burned life-long scars
    into my skin and the scarlet brightness
    near-blinded me. I could no longer see your face,
    although I had thought that I loved you.
    After that, I was confused, and failed
    to raise my hand when she asked your name.
    I had swallowed it as the warmth
    of you faded slowly to the color of dirt.
  • Image: Remembering (photo and digital composit by me 1-5-16)

    Poem and art For Hop Shore
    Mary Stebbins Taitt
    20160105-1037

    sprout from "Deep Pulses" By Hop Shore
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