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louisa
louisa
American I've been having fun writing little things, tell me what ya think! (please)
Just because she's all sentences and you're all dots doesn't mean you're not both or you're not both If she is talking to herself and you are talking to everyone while she is talking to less than that many it can still be one thing it can be even less, or another, or another, too Her foot tingles your foot stomps and stomps, throbs, or whines live not without warning but never with in
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Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 3:38 PM UTC
objects In mirror May Be Closer Than they Appear
foreign tropes plastic bags paper napkins altophone saxo tenor-horn you make notes into words i take your words and break them with harsh breaths, bent knuckles Sometimes lets press play again lets play again, play again eggin me on you off into spaces with tenor saxophones, horns alternates and alsos too-high-hopes
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Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 3:36 PM UTC
high hopes
i want to give everything to a utopian ideal to coffee and cigarettes clean white sheets six pillows, a window, you Vintage bibliophile filial commitment contentment come on home
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Apr 4, 2011
Apr 4, 2011 at 2:41 PM UTC
the fourth chapter
oh my oh your oh our inside, all insides, of us and them again again again it comes out and up and out it's not an answer it's just everything
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Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 6:41 PM UTC
God
hetero aliens is there god in asparagus is there god in a stump we build bridges and world wide webs, spider webs? dolphins can love too.
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Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 6:40 PM UTC
**** sapiens
slow slow slow slow down you're moving too fast every place every person every day don't go away don't let me stay slow down, ground your feet let me be the person you meet, and engage.
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Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 6:40 PM UTC
even if you're not
if I had back steps I'd sit on them, and sit with you if I sat on the loading dock if I sat in the grey slush I wouldn't sit with you I couldn't think of you without back steps I won't think of you in the slush
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Mar 12, 2011
Mar 12, 2011 at 2:10 PM UTC
Emily
strung out on meds out of your head space – face – the smallest bigger than one page into two linoleum tiles, purple greener than the body of your executed brother, how I met your face, in a space – this
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Mar 12, 2011
Mar 12, 2011 at 2:09 PM UTC
mother
I never got a body just legs I got a **** two feet two eyes – everything but a body all the parts, one heart
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Mar 12, 2011
Mar 12, 2011 at 2:09 PM UTC
ok so
you’re one thing on the job I’m one thing on the you but there’s no-one thing, we’re all things brains firing without the permission of the NRA, fluoxetine, the American MA doc talk, talk, talk to me tell me your game plan, without the permission, your boss on the job, another thing – a second
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Mar 12, 2011
Mar 12, 2011 at 2:08 PM UTC
the FDA