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she crimson-rips open the waiting sky with her one tendril of desire :: rushing water, whirling fire. .. Twiglet #15. Advertisements
.. Lull her soft with bubblegum grin and giggle-ghost breath. She breeze-leaves a cloud of spark and shadow, whisper-twist. Springspill her shimmer to a melted dawn sky, a moonscar curly-cued over open horizon. Green leaves of fire. Heartskip. Her sun’s … Continue reading
I. See, here’s the thing: winter’s got a way of freezing time. Sum (12) II. –mer’s somethin’ else entire(less)ly. (4) III. Fall makes herself tumble-bumble known in leavings. Enter (8) IV. Spring. She’s got a thing for flowers, and … Continue reading