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		<title>Lola | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/lolaluv</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Lola</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Roots Run Blonde</title>
			<description>i have cracks in my storieslarge enough for me to hide my shamealong with my bus bound anxietythe muscles crave something morethan the stomach i havethat is only fueled by teenage angstgood listeners are like a rare blood typeyou could be dyingbut without them there is no treatmenti pick flowers lik..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lolaluv/1276491/</link>
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			<title>Reverie</title>
			<description>in his mind there was a glowing yellow roomrunning lengthwise across one wall was a windowthat was all he noticed for yearshe opened his eyes for the first time in monthsplaster had grown into his lasheshe was the shell of a man who once wasthe room was much brighter than his eyes rememberedeach wal..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lolaluv/1275874/</link>
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			<title>Satan's Coffee Shop</title>
			<description>The patio off the coffee was picturesque. Potted flowers sat between cast iron decorative tables. Everyone who sat near the flowers had a strange articulate glow. Busboys and busgirls dragged their feet to pick up saucers with muffin crumbs, following the strict protocol of the management. He sat in..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lolaluv/1275850/</link>
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			<title>Nailbeds</title>
			<description>I try to go for that disheveled lookThe just got out of bed lookLike I don&amp;rsquo;t even have to tryI look like a heroin addictI can smell scrambled eggs&amp;nbsp;Lingering on a clean panBecause I never put the right forceInto my feeble hands onto damp spongeI can&amp;rsquo;t remember the last timeI shaved m..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lolaluv/1275839/</link>
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			<title>Growth</title>
			<description>You underestimated my abilityTo feel emotions amplifiedRight now my heart is beating out my throatAnd you are miles awayMy hair was long and blondeCurling between my shoulder bladesWith time it started to dreadSo my mother chopped it all offIf you look beyond the wallsYou&amp;rsquo;ll see it nestled bet..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lolaluv/1275446/</link>
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