342 3 3
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They wear their bodies recklessly, these cempazuchitl, these flowers of the dead.
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25044
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Friday night, 80s halcyon,a memory of October bowling.The suburban lanes loudwith kids and kinetic releaseof balls slamming on maple.I have no footwork, no senseof release, fingers sweatyin the grips, resin droppingwith a hollow boomfollowed by derision from more adept…
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