Then a hail storm greeted us midway. I dared a hand out my window & met constant thorns, from which Tristan crowned me Champion of Wonder. The snow-like sand would be my reward after crystal deluge. 3

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I heard your hums in the wind, turning tangles in my rubiginous hair. It led me to the boat where we'd read books for a while as we ate jumbo corn dogs & drank pitchers of pink lemonade—where I see you.

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He left without discussion, listening to those who raised him in exchange for full obedience. They held the titles 'mother' & 'father yet never warmed him as families do. His memory lays tangled with benthos.

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Mise-en-scène. At the juncture of our knees where shifting welcomed whispering winds who betrayed our secrets by meeting each other's listening eyes. It's the last place I remember what untrapped feels like.

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