Spring cleaning By SM Fishman 12/8/00 Write down your sins, then throw them in to the trash can of memories that only gets emptied when you call for it. Snow blankets By SM Fishman 12/8/00 The white glare of a snow covered ground fills my bedroom, fills my mind. The thought of you glistens and is shoveled into my head. Your memory tastes like the salt on the road, melting my mind, dripping my eyes. I can’t wait for spring. |
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