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R U T H D A I G O N Refuge As the body’s laid out, we stand at attention waiting for the clearest light and then sharpen our instruments. First the eyes removed to see what was seen, ear probed to hear what was heard, then the heart dissected to find what was missed. It takes time to cut tenderly into the bone and sinew of the past, each knife stroke a loving incision. There is no entrance. Only entering. And when the body’s exposed, we climb inside, pull closed the flaps of skin and slowly heal ourselves. 112 ❚ The 1980s ...

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