Tags 
saturday
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The Mysterious ManA Poem by KARENA young girl meets up with the man of her dreams! |
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My Little ManA Poem by KimLove "The Beautiful Bu..Memories |
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Fall Back LoveA Poem by InaA broken heart still beats. |
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A Year Ago Last SaturdayA Poem by Joanne FlattThe death of of a sixteen-year-old boy & the paramedic who will forever remember that night. |
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STANDING BESIDE FAY ONE SATURDAY.A Poem by Terry Colletta girl and boy one saturday in 1950s |
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SARSPARILLA AND JANICE AND YOU.A Poem by Terry CollettA BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON IN THE 1950S |
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That Saturday NightA Poem by Eric DarsieOne Saturday night, we met, hit it off, hugged, and will hang again...this coming Saturday night! |
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A Week in The LifeA Book by Naomi BloomAn erotic story. |
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Sunday, Bloody SundayA Chapter by Naomi BloomThe opening of "A Week In the Life." |
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Sunday, Bloody SundayA Story by Naomi BloomMarried bliss has become a chore for Renata Jizzabelli, an engineer who routinely retreats to the bad part of town to satisfy her urges... |
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Looking Nice and Saturday NightsA Poem by Mike GoodwinAshes to ashes, dust to dust. |
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INGRID AND HER KNIGHT IN JEANS AND JUMPER.A Story by Terry CollettA YOUNG GIRL ONE SATURDAY IN LONDON IN 1950S. |
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SaturdayA Poem by HeatherIf someone asked me to describe eternityI would respond with Saturday nightsSaturday nights feel limitlessTime matters notPossibilities are endlessIt .. |
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DorothyA Story by Lydia the LyreI can't really call this a lesbian love story, now can I? You won't find much on love in here. More of the pain brought on by any lingering feelings o.. |
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MILKA'S MOODS.A Poem by Terry CollettA GIRL AND HER BOYFRIEND ONE SATURDAY IN 1964 AND HER MOODS. |
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SATURDAY MORNING RIDE.A Poem by Terry CollettA BOY AND GIRL ON A SATURDAY MORNING BIKE IN 1964. |
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MISSED CHANCE.A Poem by Terry CollettA BOY AND GIRL ONE SATURDAY IN 1964. |
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ONE SATURDAY MUSING ON MILKA.A Poem by Terry CollettA BOY AND HIS GIRLFRIEND'S MOTHER IN 1964. |
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Almost SpringA Poem by Robert RonnowAlmost Spring but only Februaryalmost February but only Januaryonly January but almost March.Almost everyday I play my trumpetalmost every night I rid.. |
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Dogs of SaturdayA Poem by WarmDogs-in-Heavendog poem |
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