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They left the breath of their souls
upon the lips of others
and jumped in with all abandon
They felt the winds on their skin
as the heart flew by them
on its way into the lost nature of time
This time they flee the country of the soul
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1293 1 1
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For example, I never noticed that the moon had eyelashes, not until tonight. You said you couldn’t really see that, not at all. You preferred the fact that the word “lunatic” sounded like an attic on the moon...
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1293 1 0
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The doctors said, when she was born, that the gills would eventually fade away on their own. Nothing to fear, they said; no more unusual than the rare child born with a tail, or a dense pelt of fur, or a single sharp tooth jutting from its new pink gums.
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The kitchen is full of old girlfriends. I avoid them. They are munching on cheddar and sharing stories I'm sure I don't want to hear.
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1293 2 1
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Did Isaac see, his mirror in the fronds Of apple-orbs that let their ripeness stay No more than supplication of the wands The sweet tornados in one drizzle's wings betray? The tree that greets them is not ruled by iron bands Whose light's lines were…
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gravel coughing up tires at 90 miles an hour
and just getting under way
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1293 0 0
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He woke up four hours later in his car in his garage with the worst headache of his life. He lurched out of the car and kicked over a basket of basil as he toddled towards the door to the house. He stopped and scooped the spilled basil back into the baske
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1293 6 5
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I know someone in need of healing.
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1293 6 5
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One morning as Georgia Samantha was waking up from her girlish dreams, she found that she had been changed during the night into a stiff-spined book.
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1293 0 0
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Behind the bellicose façade lay a soft, compassionate soul. He sat within a swirl of rosy twilight hues, buoyed by the gently creeping tide. A dark wall approached and he mechanically spun and began stroking into the glassy canvas of light and ocean that lay between him…
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They can’t exterminate the poor just yet
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1293 16 5
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Hey, Y'all! Like I told y'all, I checked myself into this what you call a “ facebook Rehab Clinic” up here just about 40 miles outside of Kalispell, Montana in a little town called Gulag. I quit MySpace and that got me a reduced rate. Things are…
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1293 9 9
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It’s layer VII we adore/
and mourn
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she had a chipped tooth...
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My grandma kicks field goals between her bedposts, again and again. My finger is sore from holding. She says that's all I'm good for. My finger is smudged with ink from writing my poems on her paper: half-moon rowboats, clouds like whales. She twisted my finger for …
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1293 2 1
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I stared at these meteor impacts, feeling far away, a lone sentient cloud admiring the scoured yet wondrous earth-of-this-girl below me, the lean slope of her side, the soft dip of her neck, the sharp edge of her cheekbone, the monarch wing of her eyelash
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1293 1 0
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Sometimes, to be sad, you don't need tears.
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1293 0 0
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Emi paced back and forth, fixing her jacket out of nervousness. The cool breeze crawled around her skin and she shivered.
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In the end nothing could bring him back because I tried. All those weeks and months, yet all I have left are the tears and memories. He said when he asked the final questions to those in charge he was confused.
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1292 2 0
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He had a lean build, except, remarkably, his midsection was perfectly barrel-like. As if he kept an alien lifeform in his belly, cultivated by years of Pabst and Yuengling transfusions.
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1292 3 1
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Esmée sat alone at a table on the terrace at Marina Jack’s in Sarasota. She had been there ten minutes and no waitress had approached her.
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Over his usual ham sandwich and skim milk for lunch Uncle Waldo used to always say, “Going out in the dead of night without a flashlight is dangerous.” But I knew what I was doing. After dark, I'd slip out and sneaker on down the path to take a dip in a…
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1292 7 4
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sprang straight up to their full galloping heights roaming over your hills like constantly shifting eyes, your strange approximated illuminating hair like ghosts giving birth to a tender smell of green sea foam. This was all I saw, but it was quite…
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. . .the clock
of lips, timing their avid omens --
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1292 6 0
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To be perfectly honest, I was lousy at my job. Or at least most aspects of it. The typing wasn’t a problem: I can get up to a hundred words a minute on a good stretch of unbroken text, and I’m pretty accurate. I even edited as I went, fixing passiv
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1292 9 4
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William Shakespeare (a surname that meant "wanker" back in the day, by the way)
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