Blood stains every gift
coats pressed to hide their intent
I rise to reclaim
How does it work?
More stories from Test and writers in Poets and other communities.
I keep dreaming. Never the same place but always searching for Daddy. No words. No sound. Just a feeling that he went East.
By Test5 months ago in Poets
That first night: the laughter, the music, the love The first date: the music, the poetry, the moon The road trip through a hurricane, my yoga pants ruined by rain, the Violent Femmes, and that morning at the Hirshorn, the Rodin
By Harper Lewis6 days ago in Poets
little bursts of gold decorating the grass tiny suns at play
By Tina D. Lopez5 days ago in Poets
Larkin and Villi had been on the floor of the throne room for quite awhile. The shock was immense. How could they even begin with tracking down dragons who had stolen away their parents?
By Rowan Finley 5 days ago in Fiction
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