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January, 1904

ISSUE:  Winter 2004

Ah, these nights of January
when I sit recreating our moments
in my mind and I meet you
and hear our last words and hear our first.

These desperate nights of January
as vision goes and I am alone.
How does it go, and quickly fade-
gone the trees, gone the streets, gone the houses, gone the lights,
your erotic face erased and lost.



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