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		<title>mizzfizz | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/mizzfizz</link>
		<description>The original writings of author mizzfizz</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Separation</title>
			<description>When the ground crumbles to piecesBeneath your tiny feet,What will you do?Stretch out your smooth, thin fingersAnd grasp at straws.Hold on just a little bit longer,Tighter.An iron grip would sufficeBut a flimsy clutch will have to do.Remember to breathe in, ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mizzfizz/495103/</link>
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			<title>After Coffee</title>
			<description>Heart squeezes tight  Like the wet sponge clenchedBetween knuckles,While tears trace a salty path To mix with soapy waterDripping from tender hands.Eyes run languidly Over the curved outlineOf favorite chipped coffee cup,And heart understandsWhat it feels like To be not quite c..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mizzfizz/473234/</link>
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			<title>To The Wanderer, A Charge</title>
			<description>Will you gather hearts in your hands?Frayed edges unraveling,You slip on your white gloves,Slide the thread through the needle,And begin to stitch,Delicately.In the creases and the tears,Compassion.Gloves stained a vivid redYou pause,Then continue to sew,One stitch after anothe..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mizzfizz/456784/</link>
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			<title>Doppler Effect</title>
			<description>Haunting,Haunting,Haunting still.A ragged wail approachesTo pierce my earsAnd rip a bleeding memoryFrom its lockbox,Though I have thrown away the key.&amp;nbsp;Clawing,Clawing,Clawing still.A wounded beast emergesTo blind my eyesAnd suck the sun-soaked airFrom gasping lungs..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mizzfizz/453671/</link>
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			<title>Onset</title>
			<description>Feet tucked under rest frozen on the stairs with anxious ear pressed to ajarbasement door.&amp;nbsp;White painted woodstifles words tripping out in whispered phrases by voices in a&amp;nbsp; familiar drone.&amp;nbsp;Muffled cadences sear impossible to forget trains of thought that transf..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mizzfizz/452290/</link>
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