"Mothers remember. Mothers let us think together. But it is we who think. We are here, we are in the world outside, we decide. Mothers not always part... This is very difficult to speak. If I ask how you think, how you decide, can you answer? We do not know the words to say how we do."It is Gagugakhing who speaks now. Mothers make speak slow, but she say speak for her." The grammar was going south again. "She say—" There was another pause, quite short this time, and then Joe began to talk more. Besides, that nasty thing might be filthy . . . maybe smell bad, too. I leaned closer to the opening. So did he. There was a clear drop of nectar on its tip, silver, glistening, making my mouth water even more. I was so close to the hole that he must’ve seen my mouth, for he shoved that big chocolate head all the way through the opening. Without even thinking about it I stuck out my tongue and - licked that drop away – lovingly closing my mouth entirely over its head - swooning with. More

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