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From Meghann Plunkett

June 27, 2017

In Which I Name My Abuser Publicly

and they appear from the under-eaves. A litter of women
herding toward the full-stop of his name. Tall,
pretty, they are stained with his sweat too.
I say his name and pull strands of other women’s hair
from my mouth. All of us dusked and outstretched,
lapping at our wounds. One of them yanking his tooth
from her thigh, another flinching at blue-birds, trying
to remember what isn’t dangerous.

From Rattle


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