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The walls of the room are white and clean -all sign's of yesterdays sorrows scrubbedaway with bleach.
When they were young,She kept wicket for her brothers,They batted,Bowled,Padded upAnd ratcheted up the score.She crouched behind the stumps
I was born with a map of Australia on my face;it was beautiful, my mother told me – there was nobody like me in the whole wide worldwho could trace the edges of down under
This is my story.It is mine alone because I am the one who needsto tell it.I am the one who is still here,no longer stage right but
Toothless, she kisseswith fleshy lipsrounded, like mouthof a bottle, all wet
She bruises your facealmost, with twoloving tree-root hands.
You can still find our about our work through our website and our social media channels.. We look forward to working with you again in the new school year and wish you a restful and happy summer.