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En español

By Esmeralda Peña

I walk on the sand and slow myself down.  I take in the sun at its highest point. One tree humming to another accompanies my steps, softly like the sounds of the tongue's brief skipping from word to word.  I recognize the phonemes because they are different, and in this difference a secret grows, a joy and a fear, so deep that occasionally it brushes the sounds far away from my daily walk.

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