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		<title>Ty | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/carayverson</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Ty</description>
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			<title>Falling</title>
			<description>The words are above you nowI plot to pick them&amp;nbsp;as rose petals&amp;nbsp;mistaken&amp;nbsp;for Earthbound stars</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/carayverson/2772066/</link>
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			<title>The Sip</title>
			<description>Sweet sweat returns this November. I am indoors. The furnace is raising its voice. The back bedroom window shrivels. It has metamorphosed into the lone sugar cube in my coffee cup. It expands&amp;nbsp;in the black liquid. I step into the sip, into the glass, at a loss.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/carayverson/2772062/</link>
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			<title>All About the Sky</title>
			<description>When all about the skywas about the lakeand the clouds were polygons&amp;nbsp;of muddled roses,I went for a swim</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/carayverson/2761277/</link>
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			<title>Pang</title>
			<description>I cannot eat what eats itself. You are in no danger. I scraped you, pulled you from the clenched trachea. Watched you slither in eerie accordance with the much too harsh wind; my malnourished cousin who came in on particles of limestone and marbled ether. Who from secrecy, leapt in enormous baths of..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/carayverson/2173012/</link>
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			<title>Sacred Sound</title>
			<description>My heart is a bouquet aiming for the cosmos. Penetrating the stratosphere at the speed of malleable time-thing. Waiting for the awaiting door. Where up is also down. Where thoughts are vessels. A finite point of infinity. A doorway of unchecked coherent passion; wherein each initiation sets off an a..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/carayverson/2169131/</link>
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			<title>Manipura Poem</title>
			<description>I am that which I once waited forStarry eyed and open palmedWhispering to some inevitable onsetof a holographic miracleto dissuade my shacklesAs I lay bound to nothingand blind to the only thingthat I am all thingsMy power is apparent in my being itselfI persist with strength, grace, and easeImpedim..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/carayverson/2156694/</link>
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