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255 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2009
“My father's face softened into the kindness of moss that grows in the furrows of trees and asks for nothing but dappled light and the touch of rain.”
“He held me to him and his skin stole warmth from the closeness of our blood. The days of longing for him, the coldness of his skin, the taste of his tongue, the stretch of his legs, the colour of his eyes, the texture of his breath on my skin, the weight of him above me and in me and with me, so sharp and sweet was the relief of it, so deep and urgent and shuddering. And then he held me and said, 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.'”.