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They speak in fiery tongues and burning Braille breath, the taloned syllables of sky. Sanskrit scales and trails of scarlet smoke. We listen with our outstretched hands, our hearts, our will and whim and why, and wonder how long be … Continue reading
.. She draws dragons on her front walk in the brightest colors she can find, blues and purples and greens, with yellowed eyes. They’re not for good luck. They’re to keep out the real beasties. Prying eyes and false smiles, … Continue reading
.. She’s handed a sword, told it’s the only way. She begs to differ, spangles the creatures in glorious array. They have longed to be exquisite in their own skins for years, tired of regret and tiers of scales that … Continue reading
, she chalks their wings in darkest hour -glass green, splendid in their falling. They’re sprawling loose and long and strong in this bright sky, and she can see tiny talons, teeth. Truth. The wild wild proof and promise of … Continue reading
She tumbles until she has nothing left but the rise and fall of sky as breath , and a mouth scarred thick with stories. .. .. twiglets #97.
Princess Pop f e l l for a hubba-bubba-bubbling dragon. He ballooned. She swooned. Those bubble-oons were, luckily, filled with goo (and laughter). And the moral of the story is just exactly this: never ask a Bubblegum Dragon for … Continue reading