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Portrait of Emmett Till

Jesi Bender


Mama wanted to show them
how a face can become mud
bubblin’

Hung me on a drying rack
to air the horror human
hands make

My face is gravel my face
is blind my face is movement human so
unkind

O yes I can still whisper my secrets
without a tongue

O yes I can still whistle like a spate
with all this water in my lungs



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Jesi Bender