My Stories
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I blacken the page, hoping to tempt and capture a phrase of you. Communicating with ink and cursing this flavorless version of you. All the effect within my own mind. All the e
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On Christmas morning, outside it was pouring. All was hopeless in this home, because that's what winter in Seattle is like... New Year's wasn't much better, either. I was left
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My Poetry
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"Am I just a boy?" you asked,
after words were said and saliva shared,
<100 words,
October 9, 2005. In 0, 0, 10
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penny-paid ink and lace:
a mercy-soaked rag for the binding
<100 words, 2 comments,
September 24, 2005. In 0, 0, 10
Guest Book
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