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1. Zugzwang When he reached zugzwang, he resisted the urge to upend the chess board. The bishop, the king—any move and it's checkmate. Fracturing a morning of raspberry scones, Sumatra blend coffee. He looked across the board at his…
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Rosea plays a bohemian plainsong for the cosmonauts among us, while her fuzzy apple hips spit glitter, spin strobes: pink shades of pantyline flicker; lip-licked neon hues scrape strings in B sharp, a gloomy clue.
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Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?
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She dips a toothpick in ink, running prick over paper, simply to prove herself wrong.
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#spotify / Elevators / Sky Burial Monologue
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