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They do not change like the seasons.
My mother is the height of summer...
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We are dreaming without me and you,
gasping oxygen from the bubbles...
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I have seen THE horror
of where the truth...
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My heart beats to the
rhythm of your’s...
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What if we're asleep
for we're the errants of this...
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Flow means this moment.
Now flows like a candle light...
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I write haikus for
folks can't hear heart unless...
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In the even scales
of fangs there are no justness...
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Like sheltered, as in fist,
the firefly...
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When cellulite appears before my eyes
I see the dimples on the skin with fright...
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Today marks six months after your passing.
On this blistering cold May Mother’s Day...
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Charlotte, baby girl, I know you're probably...
Questioning why both your parents aren't together...