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		<title>Jezebel  | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Jessie%20Rose</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Jezebel </description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>My Heritage </title>
			<description>I told my mother I got accepted tocollege,I told her I left for basic within themonth.She said to me, &amp;ldquo;Are you trying to befunny?What makes you thinkthat you will make it?  You actlike you don't remember where you came from.&amp;rdquo;What a thing to say, right?..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jessie-Rose/948609/</link>
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			<title>Home</title>
			<description>For daddy</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jessie-Rose/945777/</link>
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			<title>The Beauty of My Love</title>
			<description>Howcould you even begin to think,even entertain the idea that I don't love you?If I allowed myselfto stoop solow,I might say that I love you too much, so much, that it's like crashingto the bottom of a Well,drowning in a lake of sewage.Loving you is like..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jessie-Rose/941514/</link>
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			<title>Black-Sheep</title>
			<description>Hey there,Black-sheep, I just love that dress.Look at you,turning your nose up at me,as though youcouldn't need me less.But I know youbetter than that, Black-sheep.I remember thosestormy nights, don't you?When I would wakeup to the subtle tickleof a curly hairagainst my n..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jessie-Rose/928040/</link>
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			<title>Sink or Swim</title>
			<description>The sun bleaches the lake, silken wavesbeating the ancient boat like an angrylover.It's intoxicating, watching it rise andfall, breathingits perfume, lulled by its whisper.It's 'bout time you learn how to swim,he said,nice hot day, wouldn't ya like to tryit?There's no tim..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jessie-Rose/924811/</link>
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			<title>A Writer's Death</title>
			<description>I died a writer's death,a pen protruding from my chest.Blood and ink flowed and mingled,staining the floor with my macabrestory.They will comment on the smile,a scarlet slash across white marble.Dressed to impress, I had to leave apretty picture,it will make a nice cover for ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jessie-Rose/921704/</link>
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			<title>The Perils of Reading</title>
			<description>Anything waspossibleas I sat up inthe tree,gnarled branchesencircling melike the lovingarms of a parent.A queen surveyingher kingdomfrom a throne ofbranches,bathing inafternoon sunlight as it brokethrough the forest.Wayward beams ofgolddripped from theleaves..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jessie-Rose/921697/</link>
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			<title>A Gift that can't be Returned</title>
			<description>what does death look like to you?</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jessie-Rose/921689/</link>
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