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Ruach

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After the shooting, we waited like expectant parents for your first breath. Unconscious of our presence, you drifted in a galaxy light years away, tethered to your life support of tubes and hose, your head thrown back in deep repose. Read more ›

Keys

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They hang on a bent nail In the garage Or lie scattered Amid matchbooks and loose change In the nightstand drawer, Bright brass and tarnished metal Clustered on rings or solitary, Their sets of ridged teeth Like miniature sawed off Read more ›