poetry
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so few of us have such a lover- a lover that is a short story with long ripple the one that prepares us for something else the lovers that bring our phantom limbs into being so we can move on to hold others
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i did not realize that blank white pages could scream your name so loudly but good stories, like good men, are hard to find – everything about you that rises must converge
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sometimes i see words in the spaces between people but I cannot find the words to narrate myself – i have studied such things modeling and probabilities imagined geographies and accidental cartographies, temporary autonomous zones yet – these applied methodologies did not prepare me for you
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one day, maybe a day like today, when the sky has swallowed grey and belched out clean, white snow, i will call you up, just like that, to belch my own odes of forgiveness and mercy, to tell you how much i missed you during these slow days –and how so many other things fell into
