literature

birthday

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Literature Text

the first sadness came at twenty-two.
she unwrapped the bow and felt
a cold tug at her hair.

"what a wind," she thought. each
time it rubbed against her cheek it took
some of her skin away.

"i wonder who's sent for me," she thought.
there was a tickle on her arm so she tore the flesh
away, blew gently on the bone,
and smiled soft.
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