

foolish in the quietthe angels are uptight, (tonight) their feathers rustling anxious warnings to passers-by who stop to stop laughing (up- roarious and deathly quiet) long enough to perceive the echo-- what with all this screaming south down-wind (hell, not heaven) that tears ailing appendages from the rammicking maple outside my window. trailing fingers clawing to get in. and i'm foolish. silent.foolish in the quiet
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(am am well aware of the errors I made...they are purposeful...don't worry, I'm not an idiot)
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My signature is prettier on paper...
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