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86 Sanding With sand paper we scraped the traces of their fingers, stains of their carelessness; memories of their rejection, we sandpapered like a ritual of love, making it clean, this learning in a one-roomed school. Hard to clean away a legacy of bland indifference. Once i scraped too deep; beneath the colour, i found white, the absence of meaning, a void of imagination, the white of leprosy like the bone-white skeleton of anomie. i hid the scar from the children’s eyes. ...

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