The magic of your larger blooming life has been trying to reach you; pouring through the cracks, seeping up through the ground around you. It has no aim, save one: to save you; to bring back the moist oasis of midnight wine and pillow talk to that dry desert you've become. - from "May These Words Drive You Up A Wall," The School of Soft-Attention
-Hawk of the Pines (Frank LaRue Owen)
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