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“He was like a pebble, a pearl that lived under my tongue in that place no one would ever touch with fingers, where my laughter washed over his curved…
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In When We Were Birds, Joe Wilkins wrests his attention away from the griefs, deprivations, and high prairies of his Montana childhood and turns toward…
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Marsh-grass like a bank creature, black-footed and salt-tipped. Twilightin the water grown tinsel. You're drawn to them heavily, a claritystilled, waiting…