it is a good thing the boys have pockets and
we don’t:
we can run around the city shoving our fists
into their denim cavities and stealing every-
thing shiny, everything sharp.
and we walk away free, our petticoats drag-
ging through mud,
cheeks flushed and chests warm,
corsets stuffed with cash.
Towers of beaming light loomed over her. Light that would never be seen by the line of forty-nine men behind her. All unable to see,...
*I* All that glamorous music and expensive furniture under that crystal light of the central hotel of the Darling Bay used to entrap all...
In our little store, My parents and my siblings, Lived and worked. But there must be more than Living and dying in this village. When the...
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