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• 115 the border Were we on the border? Is this why I’m unsure of where we were? I was sick, that breakfast, the last place before the train. There was a window, a sea. You lying on the floor looking out, sheer flesh-colored curtain in and out over you. There was a bridge, guards, and you trying to see beyond into your father’s country. Then wandering the sand below. All afternoon in and out of consciousness knowing you down on the beach looking to my window the curtains softly blowing. Wanting to love me. Wanting to enter your country at last. I saw you were afraid. That night we cut across hand in hand on the outside of the trestle bridge. Still they called to us. Hey! You can’t go there! The sea crashing on the rocks below us. We did. For one moment we touched it. ...

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