Spring 2025
No one seems to long for what it was before memory gained purchase.
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The notes must be crying inside me falling from their proper octaves.
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Because grass sprouts from the stump’s rings like tiny soldiers.
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Yes, the race of children possesses magically sagacious powers!
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I was lying with electricity. I was already a story being told.
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These days, I am less of an irony detector and more of a lyrical drone.
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It’s impossible to identify where your voice ends and the magnitude begins.
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