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Sep 2019
Next door is slick with sweat wet. Arid here. Flip manipulation. Force bendy like two magnets together. Sign in at registration. Ever too forward. My mind bleeds memory. Something about owls or captured butterflies. Maypole. Kicked-off boots. Split rivers and casual dreams. There was no comparison; nothing was gained from it.
Written by
J Walton  F/Close to the toe, LA
(F/Close to the toe, LA)   
   G Alan Johnson
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