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  49 The Big Beautiful for Pam Duncan I fled the cloy of candles and lilies to a dead-end road, to the tang of scrub pine and salt air. Where earth, sky, and water meet and breathe a primal tug and flow, my brain cooled, muscles loosened, blood sang back to the wind. I freed my hair, pin by pin from the veil that bound it, lace floated free to shroud driftwood, my sister, cast here by fortune and forces. Night settled serene and perfect, folded me into the big beautiful. A country burial, Greene County, Tennessee, early 1950s. ...


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