Sugar for St. HelensRebecca Loudon
You want to stand right on the rim and throw your gifts down. Well, we can't have that. We have our fat pink eye on you regarding the damage an older girl can do to a younger girl at camp. There are places you are not allowed to touch - Bosco-thick nerve endings stretched beyond their normal delivery routes. Oh good you said when you heard of the tumor in her side jogging to her brain. It's okay, Jesus told me it's okay. You have knife pleats in your skirt, a selfish canary to rubrubrub its beak on cuttlebone, skin so tender only silks will do. You dress in white, butter oozing from your thighs. You believe there is enough sugar inside to turn all the milk to honey.
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