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  • in this life by water I go to a French school - lycee - in a post colonial West African country where I wear a uniform to school with a fleur du li on the front. we study Latin, Math, English, and we recite Proust. we also learn to embroider in the late afternoons, rainstorms pouring on the corrugated roofs of the wooden school buildings, amazing, cold, lifealtering stormms and the Mother Superior has a peacock no a pelican that roams throughout the school rooms clipping pencil cases from our desks. for punishments we pull weeds. and the water is a magnificent tide, beaches covered in sacred wood. entire summers in the water warm as it was, no water nearly as warm in the Northeast, now, a loss of incalculable depths and imagination.
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