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The poem "blue on my skin" by Alena Dinh catches my eye as I scanned the page. The originality grabbs me from the title, so different from anything else on page 36. Alena's poem tells a tale, one which you read over an over again, just for the thrill. From the first stanza, I can sense her writing style. The line "and a flower blooms" gives a pleasant mental picture and in incentive to keep reading. I reach the second stanza, and am rewarded with another image of "dark indigo of the pristine ocean." The poem proceeds, following the same rhythm with intermingled words that I stop and wonder about. During the fourth stanza, a girl is introduced. She, unconsciously, brings about a beautiful response, "and i don't tell her that its better for the blue to be on my skin for the world to see then inside some deep emotion hidden in my heart." Her answer unlocks a deep emotion within me, one as singular as this beautiful poem.
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