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{the rendering} suzi q. smith I remember the summer we smoked dried bamboo; found it growing or dying in the alley, we spent afternoons hiding in the garage with the caved-in roof burning Barbie dolls and GI Joes, old radios we found in garbage cans. That summer, before we turned all gray and steely we were sparks and giggles and gone, matches pinched between fingers. |
