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Knife wounds were rare with pancakes and waffles, but twin boys made anything possible.
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Like a crystal ball it held secrets, but another puff took another tuft.
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I had surmised that Shakespeare was no angel.
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“No folks, that’s what’s called a wild rumor, fiction, not true.
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No pomp, no circumstance. I guess I could play solitaire.
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I have I try to figure out who’s reading. I like to imagine my sister reading an essay I wrote about her.
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Captain’s Log: Stardate, A Day at the Beach Long Ago
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Those horns just sprouted because of you.
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A whistle blew, splash! Chaos.
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Bridal White
Say yes to the dress. There’s power in the dress. I remember my sister standing in the dressing room as she stepped into the puddle of white satin on the floor. The puddle became an armor of white. Bridal white. At twenty-three, I was reluctant to get a wedding dress. I couldn’t bear to go… Read more
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Kinship
The artists couldn’t have been more different. One used a palette knife to sculpt landscapes of heaven. He caught the flickering glint of stars and swirling clouds of gas and light with oily pigments. He imprisoned the light and wonder of Orion, caught his bow in mid-aim. His kin captured the magnificence of the heavens… Read more
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Ceraunophilia (n) loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful
“The lightning webbed and arced across the black sky. Thunder of a thousand sonic booms shook the whole house. It did it again and again and again. “I got it on my camera, look. It’s phenomenal. I bet it goes viral. “What do you think?” asked Sadie. “Look, here it comes again. James Weldon Johnson’s… Read more
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Knife wounds were rare with pancakes and waffles, but twin boys made anything possible.
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Like a crystal ball it held secrets, but another puff took another tuft.
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I had surmised that Shakespeare was no angel.
-
“No folks, that’s what’s called a wild rumor, fiction, not true.
-
No pomp, no circumstance. I guess I could play solitaire.
-
I have I try to figure out who’s reading. I like to imagine my sister reading an essay I wrote about her.
-
Captain’s Log: Stardate, A Day at the Beach Long Ago
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Those horns just sprouted because of you.
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A whistle blew, splash! Chaos.
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Unspoken Trophy
“I need an introduction to our class.” So, I was asked to lead an exercise, Off the cuff with no tenor and no bass My chest puffed out ever so slight, so wise. Stood taller, looking people in the eye Relax, lean back, let them complete the why As if not wanting to draw attention Wrote poems with the “I am” intentionsTrying…
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Delight Risk
Either you will fall, or will be taught to fly.
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High School Gossip
“I heard they broke up and Tom was going to ask Janeen to the prom,” Becky announced it in Social Studies class. “Betty was all upset about it in English this morning. She was so mad she was crying. I’d hate to be Janeen,” “How do you know that’s why Betty was so mad and…
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Anticipation
Anticipation, sweaty palms shaking; Jittery, bouncing a foot on the floor Trembling legs crossing, uncrossing, twitching Recheck your hair in a makeup mirror Peek out the window, hover by the door Pace — hide your face behind your hands, cover Hover again, then sit quivering A pounding heart, lack of concentration Glances at the clock,…
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Company
Tonight. I am company. I tread lightly in my extended family’s home. I am a guest. I am on good behavior. I tell and listen to the telling from children with wide ears, eyes, and smiles. I am more polite than usual. I have helped the eldest son get an A on an English paper,…

