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Nightlight
She stops in the middle of the dark, empty, street to listen.
Bixi
I am still afraid of speed
The New York God
Mary was walking as quickly as she could down the sidewalk.
GLASSON BAR
St. Sunday becomes the bloom of my eye; we follow on highs and smoky nights
The Lover in the Mirror
That Lover in the mirror— If he is my second-half I wonder.
Betty
The respirator hummed and clicked away a percussion ensemble, beating the rhythm of life