"in a fleeting moment"

in a fleeting moment

Claire De Lune

Dear Mrs. Kang,

bitter harvest

gripping story of ideological conflict in the rural Indian belt.

The heart whispers

The heart whispers faint old fears once again! And these hands dither holding fag ends Neck shaking stiffens within the membrane The cortex quivers and a storm, transcends.
Story of the week

Eight Foot Blue - 6

What I hated most about life, and the holiday, was walking anywhere with Dad.

She wore a feather bower

She wore a feather bower Lay upon the ground To me it wasn’t a great mystery To me—was her crown? Had my princedom, my esprit This empted hour

Again and again and again

Skin to skin starting with a tickle and a tease

Contradiction?

believing yet no faith at all

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