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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    the problem with walking down the street with you, is that girls stare. like, teenage girls wound tightly in perfumed, eyelined packs. their eyes examine your stride, lingering on the confident stretch of your smile, your eyes reminiscent of a bleeding pen. but i just ignore the pretty gi...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    the first non-artist i ever kissed twice is staring at me, twelve weeks later, jaw like a knife and skin like the third month of summer that's always cut short. and he won't write poetry or instrumental music and call it “blue eyes like a blindfold” if he thinks about me on the field, ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    observatory park left me brimming with clichés about burning balls of gas that soon evolved into frustration when i realized science was a b-plus at best and the atmosphere was thinning every day. neighbors like tchekes, dying in his white shuttered house, so we never trick-or-treated t...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    each stagger imprinted itself with a Venetian canal running down our flesh, as we shook our bare bodies into the barren earth, we pulled each other’s hair and said we smelled like roses. we settled comfortably into our thin jumpsuits of wilderness my stomach grew comfortably taut, our...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    When she was born, they wanted a normal child, which she was, thank God. Bald head, petite fingernails that her sister kissed, and screaming lips wrapped around naked gums. When she was three, she knew no shame, because no one had told her that a round tummy wasn’t to be flaunted or pale skin w...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I can feel you floating up up and away like balloons that our eight-year-old fingertips cramped from holding on too tight, and like a silent movie our lips puckered into perfect O’s never realizing how infinite these things can be. But I don’t think it’s like that this time. The infin...

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