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music ezine, put it in ur mouth, submit, greatest, ezine, nuns, mouth, kevin holdsworthy, filled, publish nonfiction, wordssong lyrics afroman tall cans because i got high, zines, chad faries, insulting,
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She had the body of fugazi a woman, but she was a sea being and thought and lived and pained in underwater ways. She decorated the mouth of her cave with a filigree of gorgonian coral, rich and deeply red, slept on a bed of silt and scallop shells, swam just to feel her gills flutter, to feel the water, its touch almost viscous, as it moved over her body. But she was alone. Our house is a shack in a wood fugazi so humid that strange lichens and tall, translucent stalks of fungi grow in rapacious abundance. A fugazi fog stays low to the ground most of the time--the air is stultified and confused, it does not know what it is. It is air, but it is heavy and wet; it is amphibious. In the rare breezes, the vegetation moves, but it does not undulate, not in the way I imagine the sea grasses around my mother's cave. She could swim to the darkest, iciest depths and capture bioluminescent creatures, creatures so deprived of light their bodies learned to invent it.
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