FARM HANDS by Mark Abdon

The rocking horse was hideous, though. It was the eyes. Wide open and vacant, set too high on that giant head. The foot-pegs had snapped off on Black Friday.

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SWEETNESS by Tina Kimbrell

On the morning that she died, I don’t think I knew that it was the day that we would stop waiting. We were just going to her bedside, as we did. As we had done for days. Suspended in that grief fog, gritty and spinning. 

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CLAIM OF VALUABLES by Kristen Swan Morrison

You’re too busy thinking about the bag that held your common sense, dignity, and your partner’s trust in you, the bag that’s undoubtedly getting further away the longer you sit here.

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JUST THE EDGES by Molly Wadzeck Kraus

Rolling down the window, I decipher through the breeze, Listen, I think we need to stop this. Hours ago, you had my breasts in your hands. OK, whatever, it’s fine, I said.

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DOING VERY WELL! by Tippy Rex

It was cold on the floor, I confess, but I thought it was OK. Since he left, I wake up every morning and marvel at all the me-warmed space on the mattress.

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