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Ara Mosby
Writing
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All Writing
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Stories
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One Hour...and Nine Years
A Poem by
Ara Mosby
ahead of me - always a step, a phrase, a quick-witted-quip - my fingertips barely brush you before you are gone last night you rem..
Spilled
A Poem by
Ara Mosby
as pigment from a bottle - as wine from a carafe - the soul too can spill. contents spread like buried secrets driven out of thei..
After the Rain
A Poem by
Ara Mosby
Trees - leaves adorned with raindrop jewels, heaving under the weight of water, bending low toward the rich, wet dirt,they waitdefiantly for ..
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