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[13] H o me B urial S cene I faced the stony flesh my flesh could not be here without and did as I was told, kissed her forehead, touched the spotted hands lassoed by rosary beads. Too young to prize the Poland in her nose and chin, I stood beside the metal box she must be hiding in and listened to the wax hiss down to glass. I watched the mouth death played strange tricks about, the lips a line pulled thin as Mama’s eyebrow. In every empty room I faced her language in the dark. There were too many vowels. They stung like accidental tears. They rolled like ice cubes off her tongue. ...

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Additional Information

ISBN
9780874217971
Related ISBN
9780874217964
MARC Record
OCLC
650341890
Pages
93
Launched on MUSE
2012-01-01
Language
English
Open Access
No
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