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JULY 2006

> HARROW | jana morgan

Becoming clean is dirty work.
Can't wash you off me
Even with the lye-
Handmade.
No new skin is free
Of your marks

My greatest gifts
My heaviest sorrows
Drag me around
Like a plow
Breaking myself
Against your
Dirty truth

I'm moving
Leaving all of you
Behind
Unwilling to toil
In fields of memory

You're fixed now
A picture, yellowed
A painting, cracked
A man in a pasture
Alone.

> BIOGRAPHY | about the author

She lives in southern Indiana, though she might deny it. She writes and works and sleeps and hangs around the local watering hole, Richo's.