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virtue borrows lime (and night’s refusal)

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood from Pexels

I don’t know what I was hoping for
when I played that very first track —
the album’s new, but her voice,
a herald—it takes me back…
to a time when dog days were all I knew
and a primordial grief had taken
my desk was in the corner, and my bed
frame was sleek and brown…
meatball monsters chewing up blades of
and a ghostly vase, bulging blue,
holds van Gogh sunflowers
in weeping, bleeding…




Dirty realism, grunge lit, creative confessions, spec fic, and assorted literary atrocities.

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Franco Amati

Franco Amati

Speculative fiction writer from New York. For published work visit or buy me a coffee at

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