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July 18, 2016
Long drawn spillage from the easy loss, a mangled remembrance in the crush of an evening's sweat from a sideways glance, her sliced smile stabbing at the caved sidewalk diving close from a distance hoarding all the keepsake times locked away, and he speaks no word, screams at the passing gaze in a hollowed silence that will haunt the heavy days and nights for all whose eyes stay open, though they be closed, open to the sinewy dogs of passion waiting nervously in their slips, keeping focus on the distant bead, that wavering spot, coveted, quivering in its humorous anticipation.