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Whisperwhy me something falling. Some taotruth of trees. Some breeze-bled moment(h)um. Brizzle me a skysong, a shambled shunthing I can keep in my most wordled pockets. The world’s gone mad and moonly, love, all warticked and wombled. We must … Continue reading
a postcard poem for my own prompt over at dVerse. come play!
.. the truth had teeth. a sour and dank bitter stew. she stooped to cave below, her heart a ……(s)well, ……….and drank it anyway. .. wiki note twiglet #20
Oh death, where is your sting? – I Corinthians 15:55 And death I think is no parenthesis – E.E. Cummings .. We dress it in black. Night. Un -known. We give it a scythe, a sickle, the fickle heart of … Continue reading