Mama’s stainless steel thali shows mea wobbling moon-face,her laughter rippling my edges.I poke my finger throughwhat should be solid—first lesson:nothing holds its shape forever. Bathroom mirror after the fistfight,my split lip grinning red.The popular boys taught mehow blood tastes differentwhen it’s your own.I press the wound shut,watch myself becomethe kind of animalthat learns to smilewhile

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