26622
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my hand is closing;grasping insubstantialair particles thatescape into my fleshypink lungs. imaginary magpies take flight fromthe runways of my whorled greymind. their wingbeats soundlike dust at the morning's end;like finality…
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114954
|
But I don't see the cabinets, or know how to put the 4 chapters he's talking about today into the drawers that are invisible, floating, above his bed he's been in for a year, me sitting next to him, becoming a spinster.
|
2442
|
I write to do the impossible.
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153113
|
Twenty-six years after leaving, I wanted to forget.
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13061211
|
When I no longer know you, what signal will you give to remind me that you and I once loved?
|
100176
|
there is a vault in the mountains / that in itself contains infinite vaults
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