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A girl on a bike on a bypass flies past so fast she misses out on the fly flying faster past her
who desires her more than jam or dung or corpse more than skin, apples or ponds, more than summer so much it passes her like a Ford Capri or Concord then stops and waits to be swallowed whole
in one feathered gulp like schnapps.
December 28, 2014
2015