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Signing Forms
by Catherine Zickgraf That December,home from school,I’d finish my shift at 3 a.m. My hands cracked gripping the wheel.My breath froze in my lungsI though they’d turn to stone. The houses, too, were hollow.The road, too, unlit.My job was to go home. I sat on the steps one afternoonwith my morning coffeeand watched: My younger…
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In Ohio There Is a Window Always Open
by Lena Ziegler and I want someone to notice my skin sewn crooked from patches of light I know women embarrassed to be naked in the presence of no one no one a self they have selved into being I know a man whose bones linger exposed whose muscles tense when touched I know a…