Ying-Ying St. Clair

    For all t my mout fall out. And because I remained quiet for so long no er fluid.

    All t my true nature cly noo buy,  of balance, ray sitting crooked on a straigable.

    And I  to tell , s seeing, un hers.

    I did not lose myself all at once. I rubbed out my face over tone are er.

    Yet today I can remember a time and still. It is my earliest recollection: telling t wis w I wis memory remained hese many years.

    But noails of t entire day, as clearly as I see my daughe foolishness of her life.

    In 1918, t I ival arrived during an autumn in us erribly .  morning, teentra covering my bed icky. Everyt grass simmering in t.

    Earlier in ts ains to drive out t, our only bedding during tant  . And t bricks of tyard umn   its cool mornings and evenings. And so tale  still remained in tains, ing up t, seeping into my pillo morning less complaint.

    tside, somet fragrance t er. quot;s t stinky smell?quot; I asked my amao appear next to my bed tant I  in a little room next to mine.

    quot;It is terday,quot; sing me out of my bed and setting me on ried to remember he morning before.

    quot;e are burning t; I said dro of op of a little stool and looked out to tyard beloail t billo t of a colorful box decorated ures: a sipede, a dropping-doe of any one of tures could kill a co t t knoo coes and small flies.

    t day, instead of dressing me in a ligton jacket and loose trousers, Ama out a  and skirt outli