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fake ginger; can't act straight

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my mother is a fucking saint
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I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.


— excerpt from "Her Kind" by Anne Sexton

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