Arts and Creative
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A love that turns to raisins in the sun A spring cleaning story: a soft broom against my ribcage
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“hAterS oF mEN”
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I left my heart in a seashell city
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For no lack of romance do I seek this out. This white cotton bed-room of a flight-jacket wearing dandy.
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They know we’re desperate to be out of the prison, and they know we’re going to give it our all…
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Summer naps are when you can rest in the earth’s womb
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As a Sikh, I’m not allowed to cut or touch any hair on my body...
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Scattered clothes fly back onto two separate humans.
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You arrive pre-buzzed from the dirt-cheap tequila in your fanny pack, you spritzed some salt-spray in your mullet, and you…
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You stand at a phone booth in the waiting room where everyone gets what they want, and you want.
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