1249 6 3
|
until i french kiss every atmosphere
my mouth ready to explode
like roman candles
sparking my fingers sparking off the tips
of my sparking fingers
|
124900
|
each vertebra is a golden cavalier, brave in upright vigilance; stoic heroes.
|
124900
|
What can I offer you, White Moon?This full night lays black before your stoic assent—and Ibreathe my final breath, frantic—for you. I wait, damned,a bestial lover in the broken dark of the variety market, whisperinga word of forgiveness to an empty window. I…
|
124922
|
Often I want to kiss their lips
Drink in every word they have written
|
124900
|
Watching the surroundings, the school proceeded on with no threat in sight. The Circle of Four entered inside Azure’s classroom where she sat next to a window.
|
1249147
|
A brief colorful season/
and then the fall as winds/
break the hold the leaves have
|
124855
|
The man who will lead you can be nothing
if not already found underneath the
light-heartedness of heaven, (dawn)
if not under the light-heartedness
of snow.
He would have to have happiness
already sewn into his soul.
He bears no burdens
|
124842
|
We're alone and besieged / by badness.
|
124800
|
It was then an angel was sent to provide assistance and guidance. After the first time, with the radio show, the woman could almost feel her presence. When she did not know what to do, or needed help or to encourage others, when her own will and words wer
|
124831
|
"The food tastes kind of...off."
|
124864
|
There are no risks left to take. The notion of solitude hums with happiness. Bees gather particularly good honey and a hurricane stops suddenly, deciding not to embark on its natural terror hunt. And I just keep avoiding the knives, the pills and the…
|
1248138
|
I took a left, it's less safe
|
124811
|
Opportunity, says Webster, is a, "favorable juncture of circumstances." In my Oxford book of quotations, there are seven famous lines about opportunity. Seven – that’s it! There are twenty-seven regarding failure. Seems it's been easier for the great
|
124844
|
They were once a crown,of some living stag -- not quite old,not quite young: now bone. Something at the cusp of its age. Here they stand, given by a loved friendon a place in my home; smelling, whenI get very close, of time. They are shaped like small…
|
124830
|
I might have avoided all of this trouble if. . .
|
124800
|
-That’s more like it. He released Ben and holstered his gun under his leather jacket.
|
124841
|
For hours and hours she swirled, and swirled some more. She was trying to be there for everyone, yet no one realized how much pain they were causing her. Some of them had thrown invisible darts of anger all day, and she had endured each one, because she c
|
124821
|
I am beleaguered by duplicity.
|
124811
|
Jack Krackenthorpe, Director-General of MI-5, sat alone drinking tea in Lee Ho Fook, a third-rate Chinese restaurant in Soho a mile from his Curzon Street office.
|
124841
|
Lipstick on the bolt, she told herself, if it's no good in the slot anymore.
|
124852
|
How strangely perfect it is To see this man memorializedAn author, so I'll always cheerThough I haven't yet read his worksA secret perhaps best keptThe shame of an English major, the shame of a friendHow strangely perfect it is To read even the names paying…
|
124873
|
Spring show its populist face,
Flies in the house, missionaries at the door...
|
124800
|
Loving himself. Loved by no one. Loving no one.
|
124800
|
As Mrs. Saito put on the helmet, the copter got off the ground. She focused her Mana and placed her hand on the window, bracing for the birds arrival.
|
124852
|
I passed the old man from upstairs now and then, usually on Saturdays.
|
124821
|
Females exuding from the genitals, giving life meaning, shape, cleanness of line, purity of spirit. They may form man as the honey moans out its salt song, solitary, its epic shout of joy, the sweet science of the human form.
Then to give back in re
|
124863
|
Sorrow fences with fear and questions
|
124851
|
We went driving on Sundays.
|
124796
|
On a Saturday I flew from murky air. My wings grown weak, I stole away from plundered nest, casual stings, and skillful barbs. In family's fold, I perch.
|
124700
|
Detective-Sergeant Claude Mulvihill sat in his squad car, which was parked on 54th Street in front of Bright Star Recording Studios. He had just finished the second of two jelly donuts and was spiking his coffee with three packets of sugar.
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