A cool refreshing entry up and down the black lines into the cruel forgetting times. A toe dip then a drowning for writers with mothers they love, mothers who love to talk the past. ’You broke her heart. And you wrote’ (213).
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A cool refreshing entry up and down the black lines into the cruel forgetting times. A toe dip then a drowning for writers with mothers they love, mothers who love to talk the past. ’You broke her heart. And you wrote’ (213).
This is nothing but the story of how it is, the work of ‘meat-speak’ (18). This is must-speak to the atrocity of the acceptable, laid out in ‘tiny pieces of glass’ (81) splat, in the face of such violent lack of outrage.