Tuesday, November 4, 2014

11.4 - NaNoWriMo


tumble out, full mouthed--rows of gymnasts rise the hills, leotards to war all walking on toes. calves taut, the bullets in their cheeks glow. spider reds form sprawled like palms along the temples, clavicle, american flag hips. my girls stride exact in tendon's tremble, ground soft as toothless gums. all jaws as sharp as the cliff they dive from.

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