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auction

Nielina Babajee

fear seeped through my veins,
and terror clasped at my throat
as I walked down the narrow aisle.
Beads of sweat caked my neck
and tears burned my eyes.
I slid by the audience,
a knot tightening in my gut.
my shoes felt heavy,
leaving welts of blood on my ankles,
plodding down on the cold stone.
“bidding starts at three thousand,”
said the white man with the microphone.

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