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I Didn’t Know You Could Sculpt - Evelyn Olmos

your own skin until I walked in on my mother carving herself like clay molding her body into one of a better woman engraving a grateful smile chiseling away resentment

I watched her pinching away as if she had not given enough when I asked her to explain how she can hand over clumps of herself and name it devotion

she parted her lips and said, maybe this time he will love me maybe this time he will leave me either one means I survive


Evelyn Olmos is a poet born in Ciudad Juárez, México and currently living in Albuquerque, NM. She is an MFA candidate at the University of New Mexico.


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