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Sep 2019
She said they had morning ***. Mulled over with me past memories of better lovers. Worried about telling her business. It was hot again. With beads of sweat above my lip and on the side of my face. An ant crawled to my knee. Crushed saltines sat lonely near the porch. My hair does not cooperate. I spent a dollar and some to chat an inmate. Sent a photo.
Written by
J Walton  F/Close to the toe, LA
(F/Close to the toe, LA)   
153
   --- and Bogdan Dragos
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