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The woman standing before the black stone wall seems
quite ordinary—
Wife, mother, a foreign woman with an accent, but
ordinary.
Not an orator, not really a crusader.
I know her; we all know her.
She is nine-years-old and naked.
She stands proudly with the dignitaries, yet we all have
seen her naked.
She knows we have seen her so—
Naked in the kind of pose that could get us arrested.
She is not ashamed, but we are.
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