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The evening stars used to sparkle bright for me
as I sang them lullabies at dawn.
And those northern oaks joined in the chorus,
shaking their limbs..
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The snowflakes revel in their synonymity to frozen rain
and erase the street curbs where we used to share cigarettes.
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I adore
the stubborness of your chin.
And sometimes, when you laugh,
I forget what I was going to say.
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Now with improved title!!!
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He learned nothing out there in the snow
and filth of December with red fingers,
hard and bitten with cold.
Tomorrow will not bring anything
that ..
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Gustapho says, in his broken English,
“Why you write?You have so lovely a face!Why write?”
A moment when I bite back the bile and sorr..
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Summer has abandoned me and left a trail of leaves and left turns. I quit the whole sick mess and choose to skip merrily into autumn with my fat palms..
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When asked why she is so sad,
she will smile smally, shrug, and say, "It's part of my charm."
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The futility of your existence makes beautiful music,
a symphony of immobility.
You are a form of perfection in utter atrophy.
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Thank you, Ms. Parker.
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