poetry
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I love with my eyes
I love with my eyes. I love what I can touch and smell; it must be a hangover from foraging times. To me, people leave no ghosts, no trail of crumbs, no lingering scent. I love with my heart too,… Continue reading
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Frontal lobe here I come
It’s my sister’s birthday this week! She is turning twenty-six and I can hardly believe it. She’s now saddled herself on the late side of her twenties and to celebrate I made a carrot cake. Gone are the birthday cakes… Continue reading
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