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106 Alma, Her Eyes Shiny Coal ebony, her hair glistening against a pink bunting. She is grinning, looks ready for adventure. Some where else, birds are coming back, somebody puts on green. In Guatemala City morning mist burns off over the hills in the distance. Outside a window, someone hawking flutes and necklaces , carpets and bags of nuts. The wind is full of marimbas and lilies. She is the music those waiting to hold her go over in their heads, the 107 lily they have waited for their lives to be the vase she can bloom in ...

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