![]() Real intestines, real lungs, a beating heart, blood. ![]() As if you cut open a rag doll and found inside: Names based on our sins instead of our jobs:īased on our faults and crimes. The names we earned, based on our stories. You called peonies-sticky with nectar and crawling withĪnts-the “ant flower.” You called collies: Lassie Dogs.īut even now, the same way you still call someone “that man with one leg.” The same way-when you were little-you invented names for the plants andĪnimals in your world. Locked away from the ordinary world for three months.Īnd we called each other the “Matchmaker.” And the “Missing Link.” Run by an old, old, dying man named Whittier,Īnd we were supposed to write poetry. It was supposed to be safe.Īn isolated writers' colony, where we could work, This was supposed to be a writers' retreat.
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