Roan Writes Poetry...:

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Sunday, November 9, 2003

FRAGILE GRIP Running energy, leathery ears Streaming behind her like a World War I Pilot's scarf. Craving experience, smells, food. Everyone loves the pug. We waited two years for one with the Same mother and Matt insisted that Her name HAD to be "Spike." My god what a face - what a searching,... Sign in to see full entry.

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