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I woke to the sound of splashing, emotions,waves or merelyvapors?Sins frosted on the window sill and opened eyes, alive again.
Ligh..
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An image:Streets filled in carmineSpanish red and the taste of neon gritQuestions follow questions down to the paradoxWhile homeless..
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Maybe make sense of it
A click
A fall
A broken branch minutes to midnight
Your voice clustered into have-to-do&rsqu..
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It was as if to be alive, to be in love. freed by imperfection; to be beside her, silently aware of our course and by this, the world as well as I...
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Yes, he was American made. Drawing in and thinking back with a comeback Elvis idol parked across his lap, Milwaukee’s Best and..
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I rode these nights out as a giftMaybe to life’s tiny hands,Maybe to its helix cindersRising in shock and afterlifeTo emptines..
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On the porch she sat, wilting her smiles and balancing on the ominous plate of words she had left so quietly behind, so well maintained, so well the m..
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Morning tasted like s**t. His hands, always sweating in attestation. The office was again tangled in debt, yet, much as resistance..
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So she wants answers. She wants faith, she wants life fashioned on a stick like a goddamn corndog or better yet, a bleeding marshmallow dripping over ..
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If I neglect, or for some sour cause make flint of tomorrow, then let it be. Never turn in emotion from what reams in our flight . This is but a place..
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