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gratitudeLaine Ballardgrace: she who sings praises pleasure affords pain; yes you can pinch harder comfort: this is such a nice desk, i said, spreading my hands out across the smooth long black surface, a place to rest a blessing to be born into certain latitude-longitude coordinates or a curse or charge it to my card, i owe you. enter, breathe, no escape. life is slow, suffocate agreeable: the goldfish by the bed, Rah said, were where she projected her psyche. one large fish, one small. in a tank, fish rest; we could call it “sleep” but it’s not as we think of the word Laine Ballard Read Bio Author Discusses Poems |
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