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41 from The Diaries of Cinnamon Holloway Because of the way some boys swaggered, I just assumed they had toolboxes in their underpants, a variety of screwdrivers of different shapes and sizes to choose from, to build a chapel inside me. I was stunned when my first unbuckled—it looked so alone there. How was that singular device supposed to tighten every pipe in my body? I knew right away he’d need more than that. I almost pitied him as he climbed my spine’s porcelain stepladder, clutching his wrench edge-of-the cliff tight in his help-me-god hand. ...

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