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2006-11-17 2:43 PM micropoem II after reading donald hall's "last days"
after the poet closed Jane's round brown eyes, she closed the book, rolled away from the light, pushed her face into his bare back, and breathed until her vision clouded. though the skin grew clammy with each puff, it remained warm, a miracle. Read/Post Comments (3) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top |
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