Punctuated in,
a smile, blue hour horizon
still air, a, breath out
How does it work?
I keep reading this…. Subscribed
More stories from Lorna and writers in Poets and other communities.
ushered into a wood chip lit room the smell of potato chips burning
By Lorna3 years ago in Poets
i move at a glacial pace how to explain the fuzz in my head the sifting through the thoughts to figure out which ones
By aliabout 20 hours ago in Poets
Living in a sauna is hideous Zest, zip and zing belong to yesterday Energy sap is so insidious. * Breathing hot, humid air is torturous
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶4 days ago in Poets
It was the worst of times. Georgia had forever fought being one of those who viewed the glass half empty, but there was a hole in the bucket.
By Katherine D. Graham6 days ago in Fiction
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