[Knife]
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79 [Knife] You took me in your right hand— Then took me in your left— Years later, you rub stems across your scars, as if such marks were carved in sand. What did you learn from your first act of violence? That the body is a door to be entered by a soul, grazing the edges of the cuts you made? That the body is a cage, unlit and guarded by the fastening eye? Or maybe that the body is a threshold to freedom— a startling freedom you’ve craved since creation— and I am your tool of first resort. ...


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