1457 11 6
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I suppose it was inevitable, This crashing of souls, This recognition of possibility to create. If we were younger, We would make a baby, The ultimate act of faith. Now it has to be something else, Nothing to force a track with night feedings, …
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1457 2 2
|
“The window is a much better place to read,” she said.I wasn't aware she was talking to me, at first. In my typical manner, I was thinking about far off possibilities and realities completely detached from my own. Yet, here she was, a far off…
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1457 5 1
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It’s as she reaches into the fridge for the carton of half-and-half with the grainy waxy photo of the little girl—Last Seen 10/2/06—that the memory surfaces:
“Hey. That’s mine.”
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1456 6 4
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I'd wear my pajamas too, fitting for the big sleep
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1456 5 3
|
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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1456 9 5
|
I recalled the one night stand I'd had with the girl one balmy summer night in Minneapolis. We lay on my bed in the moonlight, and I touched the nipples of her tiny breasts with the thumb and pinkie of one hand.
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1456 5 2
|
Once there was a man who wrote in code. He was comfortable among substitutions
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1456 10 7
|
Dreams / of being a millionaire are replaced by dreams / of being a billionaire
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1456 4 4
|
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1456 8 6
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It was your present world that seemed more than mad to me. Your polished stiff brown shoes that always squeaked like mice, while the latest rude Bombers bubbled up in their comfortable Dart-board garages like apple pies…
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1456 1 0
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What if
Everything
I have been doing
Hasn’t been heard
By anyone?
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1456 2 1
|
The blaring scream from my alarm clock suffices as my wake-up call. It disrupts me from my dream state that I so rarely get the privilege to experience any more. I've always loathed that alarm clock, so I turn it off in the most sensibly aggressive manner I know how: just…
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1456 9 6
|
As I walked down to the Subway, I thought to myself that now, after the horror in Boston, everybody looks like a terrorist.
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1456 3 2
|
Sirens wake me, screaming warnings in the dark.
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1456 6 4
|
your words that came crashing over me/
so cold the clear shock was like salt water
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1456 12 8
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the two become one where/
all things end,
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1456 0 0
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You need only one who notices.
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1456 3 2
|
I didn't feel when you cut out my spine I'd been throwing up all night couldn't even smell the rust …
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1456 14 7
|
At some point, you care/
just enough to wake each morning,
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1456 2 0
|
Now it's late. I am hanging upside down from a rope coiled around my crushed left ankle, the pain too sharp to be really felt, as the excess blood to my head makes my thoughts fuzzy. I am almost two meters from the rock face, thirty-five hundred meters above sea-level, the…
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1456 3 1
|
I want to read a story that ends unhappily ever after: one where the bad guy wins and no one gets the girl.
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1455 5 3
|
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1455 2 0
|
They think because you are a writer you are not much of a listener and so you begin to recognize all of the great opportunities to be much more of a listener and then you shut your trap and get sucked into the whorls of her big wet brown eyes with Italianate…
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1455 4 4
|
On a street-lit night in Jeddah.
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1455 4 4
|
Once there was a real honest to God holy spiritout there that was a gift of loving kindness meant for everyone to share; unfortunately, it was given to all the wrong people, or the wrong people simply stole it. Either way the wrong people are…
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1455 6 6
|
I feel his hand on my face, feel it brush past my lips, and I taste my sister's blood.
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1455 3 3
|
“Sandy likes the way Bob spanks, when he’s done she gives him thanks."
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1455 5 2
|
—Now that’s a hell-of-a-painting, Frank, he said. Those colors are engaged in warfare. How the hell did you do that?
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1455 11 6
|
fanned lashes on rouged cheek
a glamorous sea creature
in violet perfume
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1455 7 5
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Cicadas shed their skin as they grow, leaving crisp hollowed out remains on tree trunks, fence posts, and the undersides of upturned leaves. Tommy and I would collect them in the early morning and stick them to our clothes like brooches. I used to like Tommy,…
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