Stillness after war—hope hums low beneath the skin,dreams wait to be sung.
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More stories from Test and writers in Poets and other communities.
Baby locs are here, tiny naps with grand ambition— crowned in coil couture.
By Test12 months ago in Poets
"Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly". (Franz Kafka).
By Antoni De'Leon5 days ago in Poets
Fuck! What I write can’t come out now, can’t come out from my brain now, it’s insane how it works now, like, like, like, when I’m in a good place now,
By Jess Boyes6 days ago in Poets
The invitation was elegant for all its simplicity: The management & staff of “the Epicure” are hopeful that you might grace us with your presence as we celebrate the completion of our recent renovations at the Skyview Tower.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock7 days ago in Fiction
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