

Love LetterI'm sailing on a sea of red, kissing black holes and having conversations with coffee cups. Jotting notes with erasers on napkins and killing idealism with blanks. Lovers like us die slowly, drowning in committment. Stubble above a quivering lip lashing across the table aiming for a heart. But what is "dead" anyway? I'm being smothered by a self-replicating system, voice activated. Black nail polish caressing rotten teeth I'll grind this perfume bottle into your throat and leave you choking on pheromones. Kiss the heroin off my lips, lover. I need you like an amputation.Love Letter
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Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, its the only thing that ever has. Margaret Mead
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is not life grand
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Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, its the only thing that ever has. Margaret Mead
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is not life grand
I am so glad you answered, I had been wondering how you are doing. Even though you've had a hard time I am REALLY happy to hear from you!!
I do remember your kidney stones. they just plain suck don't they?
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is not life grand
no way
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is not life grand
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Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, its the only thing that ever has. Margaret Mead
--
is not life grand
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Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, its the only thing that ever has. Margaret Mead
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