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360 A Face to Meet the Faces Lexicons Ash Bowen On the steamer Mother taught us the only words she said we needed to know: Yes. More. I pressed my tongue to their shapes, held their sounds like cigarette smoke. On Ellis Island, she said Please was a worthless word, throw it away like an old love letter. Answer their questions softly: Are you well? Yes. Why did you come? More. In our apartment I pushed my cheek to the cool squares of the kitchen’s black and white floor. In the building’s basement, boys found me folding laundry, their tongues wet with America, their hands full of its money. Down the street, I touched the glass of the candy case. The boys’ sweeping hands meant choose. At home, I unfolded the chocolate from its foil. The boys called from the street below. Mother stood but meant, Go close the window. ...

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