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  • "It’s a race between your foolishness and your allotted days. Good luck."
    - Mark Slouka 'Nobody's Son'

    we were, we were barely rich with intermittent obstacles, jewel-like, glassine mosquitos buzzed in our hearing, night, time's richest poison, our attraction, our love of happiness without regret in a season that leaned her way towards storm-after-storm like solace
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