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The fragments  of who she wants

to be fall apart from the center

of her stomach.  She hears about

her daughter and

the yellow fever.  Her husband

rides home to see her

at the sitting room

and a bottle of brandy

spilled over the carpets.  The

servants don’t know

what to do, they’ve never

dealt with suicide before.  Her husband

runs to the market and

buys pieces of people, fragments

of a face.  They are put together,

but his family is the market and

the market is another country.

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