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Friday, February 27, 2009
parents are just two of the things that make us
So I have rolled my tongue up snug
beneath my teeth. Like crepes. Like campers
curled in sleeping bags, children getting grass stains
down a hill. Pattern of this cork that has just fallen
from the counter, wobbling, half stained with wine--
Uneven escape.
1 comment:
Liz
March 24, 2009 at 7:08 AM
this is a favorite.
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will be icing piped from the scissored-off tip of a small plastic bag.
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About Me
Julia
Washington, DC, United States
i love birds. i love gin. i love words. and can sin.
View my complete profile
this is a favorite.
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