176 7 3
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You have to play the part and be somebody else at all cost, do this from the time you wake up drink your milk first contact, mom I wish I were someone else, tell me, tell me there must be a way through the center of the doughnut hole, direct opposite of a crucifiction.…
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106 4 4
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I write my new poem in the gardenBut not like Mary OliverMore like meDirt under my fingernailsReal dirtI can feel the grit of it Something that shouldn't be thereBut is.
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130 3 4
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My heart raced. I couldn't swallow. Heat rose under my skin, sharp and disorienting. I wanted to disappear—to fold inward, to dissolve—but instead of leaving, I walked toward him.
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209 3 2
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So greenThe road winded its way like a terrier tail but without wagging. Cream white snow and warty as country roads are with their noisy gravel which crackled under my schoolgirl shoes. I can still hear that noise when cars pass in front of my house, the tires…
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113 3 2
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That there are a downstairs, and high voices.
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33 0 0
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You were no woman at the well. The birds all passed looking blackened by the sun. It was in your eyes. Mine saw only you standing. The pressing sun was a singular frying experience between us (and I suppose the searching birds). Identity was…
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