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P OE T RY
The Blur By Krysia Wazny McClain
The first dog I ever met was a puppet. A white and tan bulldog with my grandfather’s hand inside. I reached in and felt its soft interior, softer than its fur. What did I have but wanting? Looking back, I see a girl hug a figurine of a yellow lab before bed, believing it will turn to a bounding puppy by morning.
