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Daily Archives: February 15, 2017
.. She’s straining her golden eye to see the last good in this night, the last gold in this fight, the last gild for her flight. She’s danced all night across this star-stung scrim, whirled at her whim to ebony’s … Continue reading
, ghost me a whisper-dawn, scar-curled meltmoon setting in her shimmercloud sway. shadow me a sonnet-grin, an open jar of sparks, spilling bubble-breeze. this rose has thorns. (cue tattered leaves, green, twisted in melted breath.) my friend, fool death. skip … Continue reading
.. Hear the breeze? She articulates her whim. Her will’s another story altogether. Hear the beat? The art we are (our center) doesn’t have a color, ……..creed, …………….or size. Oh, we’ve had it. We’re going out to make some (progress) … Continue reading
.. here’s the thing: time’s nothing but a spinning kite-top blur, with (out) a string. .. prompted by twiglets number 11. come play!