1542 1 1
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our eyes misted white as goatskin
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1542 5 4
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He did not hear her enter the room...
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1542 4 1
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The capsules tumble around, one of them plinking against the crown in my upper-right jaw. I hate the crown… a mute reminder of the first time Brad hit me. Swallowing the capsules, my tongue probes the left side of my mouth, finding the other two crowns…
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I chose coming away because here at least I feel good — and it makes me feel I am growing very tall and straight inside — and very still — Maybe you will not love me for it — but for me it seems to be the best…
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1542 5 1
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I lift up my sweatshirt and reach with a full fist into my belly button. This is where the fat comes out.
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...when suddenly I was pushed from behind, smack into the deep end.
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eleven seconds of infamy / brought to you by Glenfidditch /who the hell filmed this?
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Too many sparrows flit and twitter here./
Let’s go inside. The sky is far too big/
and the sun bears down on us like searchlights.
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1542 8 8
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I caught her a-feasting with her eyes and smilin' at that Jesus- haired Waffle House cook, Dennis Roy, again and I said, “Merlene, my tiny kitty-kat, they's no reason to carry no torch for him ‘cause he may not be with us very long ‘cause, if you notice, they's no…
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1542 10 8
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“I have a theory,” she said on their first date, which was at an Indian restaurant where the music was a lovely singsong but the chef seemed enraged as he clapped a ball of dough between his hands, then threw it into the flames. And her date, whom she…
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1542 4 2
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He arrived at Bellevue hospital in a straight jacket bound to a gurney.
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1542 3 2
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She turned him down again. Said it was her insomnia. She was so tired, she said, she had to work in the morning, and why couldn't he understand that? She rolled over facing away from him. He sat up in bed, thinking. When was the last time? Three months ago? Four? He…
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1542 5 2
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Your stepsisters send their love. All three are still on the wagon.
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1541 5 3
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It's 2am. The wind is moving at speed, whipping gently the tree branches, and their leaves rustle simultaneously to create a audible sound, like hands flipping through sheets of paper, or that feeling you get on your fingertips when going across a textured surface. I'm…
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1541 3 1
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My dad was an Army Reservist stationed in the U.S.—New York and Texas—the bugler in his corps. He golfed on summer weekends at Hazeltine in the course of his career. I had seen houses water colored prettily within the lines on L.S.D., after noticing not
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1541 0 0
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I don't like listening to the radio anymore. Nothing is clearer than a live voice with something to say. Give me a big field with no one around but the birds and I will send the bees away from me. I will deny all bugs to buzz.
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The brain taints everything it brings to us/
with its limited apparatus, its precepts,//
all the things it thinks it knows.
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theme songs for concentration camps!?
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1541 6 4
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Too often, Calvin's willful head finds its way into his hands.
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1541 7 3
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life is a lucky thing, bountiful among the
drugs and flowers
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1541 5 4
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If you can imagine a ghost taking a shower then you can imagine the kind of emotion I have in mind.
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1541 11 3
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Ego bereft of consistency Betrays a heart hungering to toll. Unable to trust its will Or harbor imaginary gods, It gains a hold melding into a role whose proven viability Can give convincing cover To buy time to fabricate An identity that feels unique, Yet…
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1541 0 0
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Frank sat next to her on the gurney and squeezed her hand. "You're going to be okay, Astrid. You're going to wake and it's going to be over and you're going to be okay."
"You don't know that," she said.
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suddenly she blurts out: “You are vulgar.” There is actually no perfect translation to it. “Bastos ka.” She meant I was vulgar, but also disgusting, distasteful, offensive, rude, salacious, obnoxious…
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1541 3 3
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I immediately felt anxious guilt, being the one responsible for opening the way for infection.
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1540 5 3
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Magdalena followed the receding tide, her tiny feet leaving no rumors in the hard sand. She gathered only the most beautiful shells and presented them to her waiting Abuela. Her grandmother told her that the only things that a woman truly owns are her dreams. She told her…
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1540 6 6
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Okay, so it's not exactly the lost art of sweeping anything away . For the sad fact that no one searing Love endures just for us. Brown, folded Petals, yellows buttered over petals, I do not Wait to see if the floating moon Can at…
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1540 5 5
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1540 6 5
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He stops smiling and only
says he loves me when prompted,
as if asking me to pass the salt
for his inner peace as it tastes too bland.
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