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Daily Archives: March 8, 2016
… her grin frees fire. breath spiced with smoke and song, she longs for a stir of silence. she is smallish wings and a fierce brindle smile, miles of brittle treeline left to burn behind her. spangle her in indigo … Continue reading
.. My hands are quiet birds held at bay, softer songs than those worth singing. I count sheep, wishing stars, dandelion kites, a world of wrongs. Erase them all. Press gifts to heart, name them one by one. Sometimes, … Continue reading