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Joanna M. Weston |
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TIME-WARP The day we stood beside the Frazer I tried to drink from a bowl with my arms around you --- you laughed into my hair as warm coffee slid over your back like a second skin in sunlight Today we sit one each side of the table and I pour coffee carefully into your cup THE LAST PLACE an angel sleeps underground and ties knots in the bones of children she folds glass wings over small, quiet hands the skulls have eyes that watch the sky explode to become scraps of flesh [Index] |
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Thunder Sandwich #26 - Summer/Fall 2005 |
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