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	<title>the poetry knook :: the poetry of stephen m. james :: indianapolis, indiana &#187; breast</title>
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	<description>the poetry of stephen m. james</description>
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		<title>The diameter of these circles</title>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Stephen M. James]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[College]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[anorexia]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[breast]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[eating_disorder]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[leer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mirror]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[self-image]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[stare]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I hatewhat I see too fat too big they stare at me from the mirror as if I can control the lines that form as if it changes the curves of my brainwaves]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I hatewhat I see<br />
too fat<br />
too big<br />
they stare<br />
at me<br />
from the mirror<br />
as if I can control<br />
the lines that form<br />
as if it changes the curves of my brainwaves</p>
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		<title>My Mount Olympia</title>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Stephen M. James]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[College]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[breast]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[home]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mythology]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sex]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sleep]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[swarm]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[wife]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[When the lint on the invoice envelope&#8217;s edge, looks like a man running for you, I want a mother, I&#8217;ve always said, to hold me and melt me into her breast for the heat rocks me to sleep as if I could do anything but rest bordered in your arms you bat away the bees [&#8230;]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>When the lint on the invoice envelope&#8217;s edge, looks like a man running for you,<br />
I want a mother, I&#8217;ve always said, to hold me and melt me into her breast<br />
for the heat rocks me to sleep<br />
as if I could do anything but rest<br />
bordered in your arms<br />
you bat away the bees<br />
around you that swarm<br />
to taste this ambrosia<br />
that never leaves me starved</p>
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