hourglass
All things being equal, still you spill your sands, time measured only by what it does without. That shape in waiting shifts its shadows, shrugs its shoulders, and begins the dream. The days given up to dreaming, the sands surrendered to the tide, you unburden the shift and sway with the lilt of your hips. You pace the dissolution to the acuity of your...
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All things being equal, still you spill your sands, time measured only by what it does without. That shape in waiting shifts its shadows, shrugs its shoulders, and begins the dream. The days given up to dreaming, the sands surrendered to the tide, you unburden the shift and sway with the lilt of your hips. You pace the dissolution to the acuity of your...
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kay:
little piggies
The last little pig never knew the wolf, only the burials and the brickwork. The last little pig made his house from words, and was never found again. The black and white gave the lay of the land, the stretch and strut of wave after wave of breathless words condensed against these quaking conceptions. The fervid urgency he made in these long braids...
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The last little pig never knew the wolf, only the burials and the brickwork. The last little pig made his house from words, and was never found again. The black and white gave the lay of the land, the stretch and strut of wave after wave of breathless words condensed against these quaking conceptions. The fervid urgency he made in these long braids...
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kay:
I really really enjoyed this one!
unlined
It is a nation without fear if all the t-shirts know what they are talking about, colored up so as to ring true and never run. It is a world so beautiful and cast that I do not deserve it, a life wadded up in a corner waiting for disposal. I see the science, I see the breadth, I know the weight of my...
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It is a nation without fear if all the t-shirts know what they are talking about, colored up so as to ring true and never run. It is a world so beautiful and cast that I do not deserve it, a life wadded up in a corner waiting for disposal. I see the science, I see the breadth, I know the weight of my...
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missing
These hands need something, so I smoke for a while. I scatter my ashes into the wind, I follow my footsteps in small circles, everything caught up in the dance that is missing. Everything counting on the song that went missing long before I woke. The branches flail and lash, the dust stands upon its hind legs and does another jig. The shadows flood...
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These hands need something, so I smoke for a while. I scatter my ashes into the wind, I follow my footsteps in small circles, everything caught up in the dance that is missing. Everything counting on the song that went missing long before I woke. The branches flail and lash, the dust stands upon its hind legs and does another jig. The shadows flood...
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reaperoftime:
That's some heavy shit... I read the others too. Some good stuff
press
You leave your celebration skin on so long you begin to believe each scar. The old romance of just being you hot and fissile bubbling from another mouth. The world sags and stretches, the world sparks and gutters. There is the glow of a wishful candle in that kiss. There are all the alarm and report of what you thought were metaphors, all the...
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You leave your celebration skin on so long you begin to believe each scar. The old romance of just being you hot and fissile bubbling from another mouth. The world sags and stretches, the world sparks and gutters. There is the glow of a wishful candle in that kiss. There are all the alarm and report of what you thought were metaphors, all the...
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kay:
Nicely done.
author
The world works in detail and broad strokes, the wasps scraping at the dangling leaves, the wind stirring the dust and heat. The dogs stretch and pant all the editorial you'd ever need. Here in the tall shade beside the press of passing traffic. Here beneath the broad branches and the dull reaching of smoke. I write it down in weeds and ashes. I...
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The world works in detail and broad strokes, the wasps scraping at the dangling leaves, the wind stirring the dust and heat. The dogs stretch and pant all the editorial you'd ever need. Here in the tall shade beside the press of passing traffic. Here beneath the broad branches and the dull reaching of smoke. I write it down in weeds and ashes. I...
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sentience
I leave my mark in spilled coffee and scuffed up shoes, the imagined stations of self suspiciously abandoned, the ship long since lost at sea. I am the munitions of another time, the technique provided by the gaps and spaces between these worlds. The words conspire upon each line. The words breathe out their emptiness. The world is the press of shadows inside my...
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I leave my mark in spilled coffee and scuffed up shoes, the imagined stations of self suspiciously abandoned, the ship long since lost at sea. I am the munitions of another time, the technique provided by the gaps and spaces between these worlds. The words conspire upon each line. The words breathe out their emptiness. The world is the press of shadows inside my...
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star bright
The days turn to dust, our lives these bright passages read aloud, these celebrated excerpts of unremarkable texts. The sky so blue because of a preponderance of water, the world so green from a trick of chemistry. Every word so aptly misspoken, each moment holding its own shine. Each thought arrives cloaked in gray, unfounded and unfolded as if the message mattered. The...
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The days turn to dust, our lives these bright passages read aloud, these celebrated excerpts of unremarkable texts. The sky so blue because of a preponderance of water, the world so green from a trick of chemistry. Every word so aptly misspoken, each moment holding its own shine. Each thought arrives cloaked in gray, unfounded and unfolded as if the message mattered. The...
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preternatural
The story unwinds as the day unravels, the road before you and the sky high tomorrow. I ride out the twitch and twine of my ragged nerves cutting back the shrubs and reasoning the deadfall into piles. This passive spell of thoughts unspoken, the sand in my honey, the bitter in my sweet. The words that well with-in my heart, despite all the chips...
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The story unwinds as the day unravels, the road before you and the sky high tomorrow. I ride out the twitch and twine of my ragged nerves cutting back the shrubs and reasoning the deadfall into piles. This passive spell of thoughts unspoken, the sand in my honey, the bitter in my sweet. The words that well with-in my heart, despite all the chips...
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namesake
The world was full of wanderers, the world was full of wars. They killed their kings, they killed their conscience. The streets shook with screams and tears. The cities broke and burned. Amid this chaos, some human resolution. Among these crises, the usual human work. From the striving and the fleeting feelings, from the nature of the beast, you were birthed. All the tears...
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The world was full of wanderers, the world was full of wars. They killed their kings, they killed their conscience. The streets shook with screams and tears. The cities broke and burned. Amid this chaos, some human resolution. Among these crises, the usual human work. From the striving and the fleeting feelings, from the nature of the beast, you were birthed. All the tears...
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