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		<title>Nadra MacArthur | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/nmacarthur</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Nadra MacArthur</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Curved Haunches</title>
			<description>I rise upon curved haunches.Soft petals are my lips,thus quietly they speak.And dry mosses for my eyes.I hear a sound insistent.Staccato rhythms are my life,so surely do they beat.And whereupon I find an answer.I wait with stubborn reasons.Resemblance I have seen,So natural n..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nmacarthur/1784716/</link>
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			<title>Dissolution </title>
			<description>The carcass of what once was lie as bare,stripped by months of carrion thought.Ahead, the sun burns thefebrile desperation from me.I see you nowfor what you are.Extinct,a white glare of boneno more.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nmacarthur/1784715/</link>
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			<title>Stone Wall</title>
			<description>You are a stone wall I climbed over one day.Silent, still and sullen, you,stranger barred my way.Onward was my path to go,and yet you noticed not,the quest ahead and journey's end,beyond your planted spot.So high and deep an obstacle,you paused me in my tracks,I saw no way to get a..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nmacarthur/1784713/</link>
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			<title>Truth be Told</title>
			<description>Bad dayanxiety and panic a cloakfrom Houdini.Belly full of acheand head abandons control.I rue the day and ridewith the restless night,dreams and visions are my reins.Through the stars,into the stratosphere, I amtrailing some unknown.I would cleanse myself of knowledgeI don't..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nmacarthur/1784711/</link>
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			<title>The Jelly Jar</title>
			<description>I say I will leave him when the jelly jar is empty.Full, new, brimming with with the fruit and seeds of sweetness,I take small teaspoons from the top.Late nights alone later, I weep into my napkin,The toast forgotten and bitter with its dusting of preserves.Half full yet, doors slam and my..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/nmacarthur/1784709/</link>
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