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Board Administrator Username: mjm
Post Number: 3708 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Friday, July 15, 2005 - 10:19 pm: |
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Honorable Mention She Talks in Her Sleep Dark -- SplinterGroup (Alan Addotto) Late . She's asleep and consequently beautiful in another room. Insomnia and I sit up and talk It really isn't that far a walk from where I am,,,,,,,,,, down the dark hall and into the bedroom at all. I know this,,,, but I don't care. I can't get myself to get up and go in there just yet. I feel a allegoric splinter in my brain working it's way to the surface from a deep uncomfortable place so I wait feeling it push up toward the dura mater from deep inside the medulla reptilian oblongata. Something out of sight,,,,, hidden but presencefelt is not right, ,,,,,,,,,,not right ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,just not right. Nothing so overt or as obvious as guilty downcast eyes she is much more clever than that, much more practiced at rococo baroque deception. She would never be caught so easily, so inexpensively. No. But still something gives her away drops hints and sends tattling impish tantalizations my way. Some thing is just not right. I scoop up a handful of moonlight from the puddle on the coffee table. paint my face in disguise and with my own camouflaged eyes wait listening.
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