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46 • WHAT STArS ArE fOr My hand is an anchor linked to each slip of her finger, a weight at her side, the heft to keep her here. I grip tighter, gathering the links, no slack, no room to run. Back at Vashon, a boy passed a note to a girl named Sister, asked her “Do you like me? Check yes or no”— she left the boxes blank. & Loretta, the senior he invited for Cokes at Walgreens, said yes, never showed, told her friends who never tired of a point & taunt. 47 • Eulaulah smiles, eases my grip, points to the north Star with her free hand. And I’m sure when stars flicker like a mass of staring eyes stopped to blink, the moon so happily gorged, there are wishes at work: those just granted, others waiting turn. ...

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