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Atlas & Alice | Issue 7, Summer/Fall 2016

Carcass Dead carcass sinks. We watch. Dragonfly passes. Old, worn, out. Out, worn, old. This is where it ends, the trees begin, the heat begins. This is where it began, where it ends. We don’t move through generations, don’t love through generations. Not like the boggy mess, twenty million in the ground. Use rings to age if you could. We have no rings. Out of sight, it sinks, it stinks. Old, worn out. Out worn, old. Sinks carcass dead. .

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Profile for Atlas and Alice Literary Magazine

Atlas and Alice - Issue 7  

Atlas and Alice - Issue 7  

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