If the desire to write is not accompanied by actual writing,
then the desire is not to write.
- Hugh Prather
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Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Sky
The sky is dry tonight bleached bone-pale, opal teeth glittering in distance, flecking the stars. We keep seeing strangers we think we know, greeting breaking on our lips, gull cries shrieked insults. I am basked by the wind with new names.
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