Featured Poet: lyn lifshin

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WHY DIDN'T WE? in your e mail years after. Catalpa sweaty nights and the margaritas. Your thigh touching on the brown velvet couch. An "e mail romance" a review says of one poem. She couldn't have known how skin, how the margaritas were tied with black roses. Or how when I was no longer my leather jacket, something he could casually toss on the bed, asked did I want to shower, ice filled the stifling small Austin room and tho everything inside was saying yes, yes, I didn't _____________________