The Leaving | Alexandra Dane

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Honestly, there was nothing to see — just two women, mother-daughter-friends on a mid-summer day, tangled hands on summerhouse cushions, pinked apple blossoms drifting — I must have been dreaming of the sweet

sure…are…days… | Abbie Doll

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where you’re –so– worn out ⠀⠀⠀you won’t mind ⠀⠀⠀being wiped out; ⠀⠀⠀hell, you’ll even thank the tsunami for ⠀⠀⠀flicking you off ⠀⠀⠀the face of this ⠀⠀⠀flaming planet far far away ⠀⠀⠀from that

Two Poems | Joan Mazza

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Flow          for Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi On learning of your passingI’m shot back in timeto the discovery of your booksand concepts, to teachingmyself how to enter that alteredstate of concentrationwhere creativityspills into spontaneityand

Two Poems | Kyle Snyder

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Ode to Ghosts “There’s always someone younger and hungrier coming down the stairs after you.” – Showgirls To the ghost shepherding a motorcycle into the guard rail at night A ghost pulling

Sinkhole | Ryan Shea

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I knew it was time to leave Florida when the sinkhole ate Buddy. I was sitting in a kiddie pool with the hose running, throwing a mangled tennis ball for him to

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