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Ionic Winter (Free verse) by david

you are an ionic winter, a rough stone sitting on the beach, forever waiting for the tide to arrive. And here am i, Macbeth in many ways. With time on my hands, i wait for you to play these games. "Fine," you say, looking me up and down rather critically, "Just this once." and since then, Portage and Main has never been so damn cold.

<{Baba^Yaga}> 4-Jul-03/1:57 PM
Crafty.




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