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		<title>Jwakefield | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Jwakefield</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Jwakefield</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Blank</title>
			<description>A blank page can inspire dread far superiorto any prognosis or alarm. Assigned analysisis the directive, and as i furrow browsand browse everything unrelated, I am forced to consider:Who knows? The deeper meaning, the hidden&amp;nbsp;meaninggenerated by minds that ceased operationfive hundred years ago ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jwakefield/1251992/</link>
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			<title>Early to Bed</title>
			<description>My mouth wants to fight your mouth,and bite just a little.Tongue wrestle like gladiators,&amp;nbsp;slippery and bare.Take some ground and give it back,you win again.Your pink lips are undefeatedat this game.Connect the dots, every freckle killsme halfway.Sweat like cider, legs tied too tightin a knot.Th..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jwakefield/1250696/</link>
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			<title>The Top</title>
			<description>False men, all of these. Heads like summer hams,And eyes that plead for blood. Fat, crackling tonguesSpark dishonest enginesAnd dribble on the bones. Baby fat slimed hair,Purple, pulsing veins,Feed into a vacuum. Corndog fingers stroke,Sultry words spew out,And drench wid..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jwakefield/1248071/</link>
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			<title>The Face in the Window</title>
			<description>Night had crawled in and murdered meager light,Through purple panes of milky glass, and placedA chill on me, a nameless creeping blight,And staring through the dark I saw a face. Peeping between flowers long dead and brown,Scratching, mewling, sighs; longing to embrace. Whispering low ag..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jwakefield/1247465/</link>
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			<title>Died Sweetly on a Friday</title>
			<description>Charade was played, and just as well, as the worst of men,But the game cannot be won, and cheaters can't be beat.Laid them low, and made it so, then never seen again,World melted, then reforged, in your lustful heat.Killed the ancients, bled them out, with nothing but a smile,From across a room of b..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jwakefield/1246842/</link>
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			<title>Today</title>
			<description>Sugar sweetened sickness,And prescribed perception purification. Kaleidoscope cardboard cartonsFling fast food frailty. A reimagined reality,Freed from freedom,Graciously given imprisonmentAnd thankful for it. Ingenious in convenience. Naturally nullified. Razed and rebuilt..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jwakefield/1246241/</link>
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			<title>The Lady's Tower</title>
			<description>A poem for Dig. </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jwakefield/1245230/</link>
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			<title>Empty Interstate </title>
			<description>Just a short story. </description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jwakefield/1244477/</link>
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