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Sep 2019
A string of strong
leather
torn off a dead animal’s bones,
holes punched into tender
skin at regular
intervals.
Holding my pants
in position
squeezing and quenching
my guts filled with
sedatives and hardship.
Holding on to hopes,
holding strong, holding on.
Will it hold my entire weight
when …
Brigid Sparks
Written by
Brigid Sparks
111
 
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