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April 1, 2012 vol 8 no 1

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Patricia N. Rogers


I will burn a path down the valley of your throat with my touch. Your eyes will water and you will experience a momentary need for true solace. But then I will caress your stomach, distracting you and you will preen, gloating, and for a while in your mind things will be alright.

by a bar glass filled with
liquid hope