authorship
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For one week, you can still hold the beginning. A poem for the first-edition covers of What the Bruises Remember.
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Yes, I used AI for a cover. A picture. A frame. A doorway into something I had already written with my own two hands. But the words? The words were mine. The grief was mine. The memories I had to drag up from places I spent years trying to bury were mine. The bruises were…
