ylake
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My stories
Half a Cup
I thought you were Midas’s son, how you could gild my days with your presence, your touch. Your breath as you slept filled the room with a golden...
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- 707 reads
Spanish Civil War Exhibition
Beneath the post-card sized lives, ‘Autor desconegut’. Coarse shirts and pinafores camouflage men and women by the rubble of the polling booth. Untaught smiles for the camera,
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- 419 reads
The Classroom Spring
In winter months, weather maps surrender muffled shores, tears roll down clouds that pout, like grey, soggy handkerchiefs wrung out, flamenco footsteps hammer on the roof;
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- 430 reads
Portraiture
A jewel-laden snake encircles her golden throat, bangles grasp her arm like an eagle’s claw, heavy-lids, parted lips, she inhales victory, caresses the head she holds beneath her bare breast,
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- 798 reads
Drama Class
Droplets of water in drama class evaporate from wooden floors I tried to be petite girls in polo necks carefree shadows springing in black tights painting afternoon stripes
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- 449 reads