Winter Water
More by Geri
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Peace
I think peace looks like:
driving on the highway from College Park
listening to “White Ferrari”
by Frank Ocean
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Monday
Monday
Rejection
Run late
Elections
It’s a Friday
Let's lie down
We’ll figure
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January Is an Icicle
The clock was frozen in amber, but now frost creeps up to crack the warm glow. The minute hand trembles, then moves in wistful whirls. The Christmas tree slumps, its shiny tears clinking against the wooden floor.
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