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Telescope I’ve stood here pointed at your skies so long I’m stiff. I am focused on your empty place. Each day new constellations dance past, mocking my patience. Dust grows on my lenses. Storm fronts rattle through. Have all your stars burned out? My love is for year old light.

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BWOWP_WHITE01  

Black Words On White Paper is a unique literary journal, publishing poems and flash fiction that fit onto a single page. This is the premier...

BWOWP_WHITE01  

Black Words On White Paper is a unique literary journal, publishing poems and flash fiction that fit onto a single page. This is the premier...

Profile for bwowp
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