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these bracelets
are meant for girls
who do not know
the taste of a man’s sweat.
they do not know
how their mothers
become puppies under
the arms of their father.
but i took mine
and buried it in the pocket
of my neighbour’s son.
John looks at me in a way
that i feel like my mother.
his hands, his voice,
the taste of his tongue
make me forget my bracelet
in his pocket
every
time.
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