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Christopher Brean Murray
Somewhere Rilke speaks of "vast, ruined kingdoms of cloud." That from the love letter of another exiled prince.

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Emily Lee Luan
A sadness          held in the mouth. Is this Savor my           ceaseless condition? If so, I’m Sick                    with it. Pull out my molars. Make of             me a simpler O.

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Annelyse Gelman
The dominant metaphor for the body was the engine The dominant metaphor for the city was the body The dominant metaphor for identity was consumption Sometimes a brain got too big, holes had to be drilled To make room, I committed the first page of the economics textbook to memory People always want more, no matter how much they have already

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From my seat alongside Rattlesnake Creek, I looked upstream toward the high-elevation wilderness snowfields that framed and fed the floodplain. The water at my feet had once resided there, and before that it existed as moisture trapped inside a cloud, and perhaps before that as fog, the slough’s breath, the valley’s exhalation, ad infinitum. This was doubtless rudimentary elemental positing, but the mere proximity to moving water had at least succeeded in getting me “out of my head.”

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Wong May
The late Qing Emperor left 4 words On a stone pier: “Dawn Moon Over Lugou”

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Traci Brimhall
               That’s how I know I’m a successful candidate. The temptations. The failures. The ever afters of forgiveness I have already lived. For so long I offered others the love I wanted to receive, the cursive letters and lost slippers.

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Olivia Muenz

But don't let this get you. Down. Don't go all soft. On one now. I am frozen. In time. I am a big memory box. I am all meat. I can eat you alive if you let me.

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Sarah Audsley
When my mother returns, she is the bitter in my mouth I can’t dilute; she swells inside; she’s the branch from which birds will never fly.

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