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Memoir THE RUIN OF the new mother is the raspberry. I give Yasmin, her eight-month-old, the bursting prize of the red berry. I know what I am doing....
MemoirThe idea of having my body lovingly prepared and cooked as a feast for friends seems like a particularly beautiful death to me, and one that needs careful planning and consideration.
PoetryI imagine you as a young woman here in this foreign place trying to learn a language your children brought home from school.