Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryEunectes Murinus Anna Marie316 years 3 months ago
StoryToothless Wander lenchenelf916 years 3 months ago
StoryHow royally Avant-garde am I? Mark Heathcote116 years 5 months ago
StoryNearly human (again) Nick.A316 years 7 months ago
StoryDo the British take their brollies? Mark Heathcote616 years 10 months ago
StoryVII Stanzas Mark Heathcote216 years 10 months ago
StoryA Lovely Day Jupiter1816 years 10 months ago
StoryThe Trouble with Grace Silver Spun Sand3016 years 11 months ago
StoryChaosity Kills jennifer217 years 5 months ago
StoryPenetrates jennifer117 years 8 months ago
StoryThe music of one’s love is deaf and dumb Mark Heathcote317 years 8 months ago
StoryA Cautionary Tale MistakenMagic217 years 11 months ago
StoryIn these cormorant hours spent swift Mark Heathcote218 years 4 days ago

My stories

Love kept her for a teacup

Love kept me for a teacup close to her lips With both hands trembling on my hips Her eyes they too were so, love-in That I pulled away at her silk napkin I held her like she were a teaspoon

Why? Travel

Is everything more palpable, tomorrow? Than it is today… Like that fleeting eight-day trip to Bordeaux. What was more risqué…?

The truth about Ruth…

Describe to me something…? Such, as…? Well, any old thing You want; but make it true. Else, I’ll only come to rue’ A lie, if it were told as truth.

4 Tanka

here opens my hearts breast a field of scarlet poppies where sacrament sleep awake deep furrows of love... spring seeds, again, the tulips blood. each; days a dungeon

We are the all...?

Mystical and magical, all are the same Without doubt none singular is to blame? Except all meaning and question your finds For all opposites in all climbs, chime?

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