purplehaze
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NPA - After Abigail
These are not his only deformities. It's obvious from the twist of his ancient anorak, it's fur-trimmed hood matted grey, that his body twists like a salmon. Struggling always upstream, in his swing and falter gait.
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- 824 reads
Journal 16th Jan
Lo! Fear not! For it came to pass that morning pages begat more pages and those pages begat blogs which begat stories which begat poems. As it ever was, and shall be forever more. Hallelujah.
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- 1051 reads
Poem for a quiet man
Bright nature spirits Light your sycamore eyes. Tenderest moment Stroking your thighs. Soft hair that tickled As you kissed my breast. That was the moment I loved you best. I lay down, in Heaven,
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- 1070 reads
Journal End of November
At dinner, the sage corrects me with a glare, "Labyrinth, when I'm talking about the maze. At the time I think it doesn't matter what it's called, the words are interchangeable. Then it starts to bug me that I don't actually know if there is a difference between a labyrinth and a maze, so am compelled to look it up.
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- 873 reads
Journal 21st November
Sage shows me his killing moves this morning. 8.15am, twenty orks done for, at least. We can sleep tonight.
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- 811 reads