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105 Alma Karmina past small villages Diego Rivera might have painted, past huge leaves, wildly colored textiles, farther than rose walls, a clothes line of vibrant blues, purples, scarlets where women with thick braids kneel in shadows, past star trails, volcanos of Lake Atilan where flowers cover every thing, Alma Karmina in a pink bunting, deep past flowers that bloom in the night, eyes darker than cardamon, waiting for her new home, the ones whose hearts melt like spoons over flame ...

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