Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Kristin LaTour Possible cheap words fell from your lips to my chest       perfume that's mostly alcohol       and evaporated as soon as they hit my skin even your head resting on my shoulder       was so light,       a small brown bird with dirty feet dead leaves skittered across the asphalt       the cold wind pushed through       the cracks in the window sill your compliments skimmed       over me       like yellow clouds across the gray moon Next Poem
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