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32 From the Ocean, Fidelito Pulls A dull starfish, one with six arms. It’s hard like limpet shells on salty rocks and burns its tan heart. Underneath, the feelers search the way the blind cling to the walls of a hall. Its beak mouths at the air for speech while Fidelito hangs to one of its arms curling like a child’s finger. The starfish waves that way. Far out at sea, the long boat of Fidelito’s father sighs, a blue flame on the horizon. In his yellow slicker, Domingo tugs at his net and pulls up more stars. They give themselves from the ocean. ...

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