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Jul 8
Adam makes bread for his sons. A mosquito collects mosquitoes from Eden. Everyone I talk to knows my mother. Shy x-ray. Shy tadpole. Brain a headlight packed in snow. Sorrow is sadness that believes in the future. This is what I thought my blood was doing. The afterdeer of it all. So what. So what, angel. Your mime my abuser.
Barton D Smock
Written by
Barton D Smock  48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)   
60
   Dorothea Daisy
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