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Why It MattersI would run to meet the night in you any day and knowing how brief the good things are I wouldn't waste a single minute pretending to be The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Dried OrchidsAnita Edington saw the naked body of a man when she was twelve. His shadow squirmed in front of the rose-petaled wallpaper of her parents’ bedroom. Beige nicotine stains discolored the joint where the wall meets the ceiling. Anita watched the man’s silhouetted body twist like a corkscrew with a woman, their moans dancing in the air. It was her brother’s naked body fucking Meredith Hooley while their parents were three streets down at a Christmas Eve party. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Wadinghiding behind subtlety I make the mistake of passing off stoicism for truth an exchange rate I can’t calculate but one that seems exorbitant, all things considered The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Poem to 45: you don't deserve a capital Y.you are a yellow-bellied, orange-skinned, cold-blooded, cold-hearted, blue-balled, red-baiting, anti-Semitic, green-eyed toddler eager to pull the wings off our planet in order to line your shallow pockets with gold.
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UntamedThere is nothing that fits in a box about it. It breaks open. Words the same as the orange nasturtium flowers on a vine in my garden in the back yard. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Comet SongBy Julian Drury QuailBellMagazine.com The Comet sings to me, and I know now what it all means. After a decade of research and tried patience, I have gathered the ultimate knowledge of all worlds. I have done so on the back of a single comet, glorious and everlasting giant of the cosmos that it is. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Sum of Small ThingsBy Charlene Langfur QuailBellMagazine.com Everything right is about what I can’t see, the big of the little, of seeds become sprouts while I am asleep, work in increments, light collecting, slim and luminent, and bold, I know that is what I am and am able to do, tracing patches of light on the floor, and more, The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Love's AssassinHer Story
It was a summer day and late in the afternoon. Inside the opened garage, she was preparing to stack boxes on a table, boxes no one had opened in at least twenty years. The idea of cleaning out the garage had been rumbling in her head for a few weeks. Today, despite the heat, she would just get it done. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
I Don't Know Why, But I Can't Stop TryingI think about darkness when I am with you I can't help but button up rather than down The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
My Mother Taught Me By Audra Coleman QuailBellMagazine.com My mother taught me
to walk long stretches of beach in silence in search of perfect shells, |