Poetry
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Microtones
A catalyst of open arms, delve more pyrrhic than mountain tissues, more life blood than open rivers. Do not contend with rivers. They are broken and unmentionable. Recall the serene...
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Companion
Where does all the giving go just a nonce for primitive tidings or do we make tosses for branches indisposed and fragrant on star clusters more sensitive than ruins do...
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The last leaves of April
A leger line bends more separation than last waves caught in symphony, more cast iron fragments writing angles in pewter dusk climbing rocks shadow seal sheets of masked indifference toil...