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Show Motherlunge a novel 26 5« It's Better Before You Know What It Is When the dark-eyed girl cutting your hair draws her comb across your scalp, looking past you in the mirror at herself. When the plug in the bathtub is taken out, and the water-ever colder, dense as mercury in a thermometer-pulls on your skin as it drains. When you're hiding in a clothes rack in a department store, pressed by folds of wool while two women scrape the hangers back and forth above you, talking softly to * each other. r Once when the baby you're holding looks up at you, and you empty through your own eyes. He reaches, you open your mouth, you taste his sharp fingers. And they are salt and metal like tears, like wanting. |