Site-Wide Post Activity: All Authors
 Sunday on the Hillside Rain threads the green expanse in silver, each drop a whispered footnote to memory.... [read more] |
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These Arms In the empty hallway’s pale lamplight, I stand— fingertips trembling against the doorfram... [read more] |
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Unlikely Wedded Minds A teacup’s pale steam curls beneath the lamp’s warm halo, squiggled words... [read more] |
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— when you learn to whisper... [read more] |
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After the Last “Seen” — Last night I watched my words dissolve in the empty glow of your unread notification. My... [read more] |
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Evening Benediction at the Tide The tide returns in sculpted prayers over broken shells, whispering covenant beneath gull-s... [read more] |
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“Epistle at Noon” Steam curls from the chipped mug— a psalm rising in arabesques against the sunlit kitchen tile. My sp... [read more] |
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“Murmurs in the Digital Nave” — Arqios on PoetryCircle In the forum’s hush, my cursor blinks: an altar light against th... [read more] |
 I swear, when I see Trump or Epstein imagery with girls or young women it triggers my memories of men taking advantage of me like that throu... [read more] |
 Note-come volunteer for something fun and local in Dallas! Contact for more details! All that you could ever want is here just... [read more] |
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Always before for others she has seen it in his eyes Now that its directed at her she can't help but to succumb All too easy between... [read more] |
 There's a sweet, young lady named Claire Her innocence, cannot compare Date men? Not too often 'They all want my clothes off, th... [read more] |
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Monologue: Young Firs — “The Last Instruction” They say the orchard is falling. I... [read more] |
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Monolove: Gayev to the Orchard (and to Himself) This cupboard—made exactly a hundred years... [read more] |
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This is the story of Maude A woman of means, very rich Though she had plenty of money Maude was still a bitch If you were... [read more] |