Her worth is not in the long white garment she trails or small fingers tugging at wisps and locks that dangle unconsciously not in the contamination she breathes in but in the wars she fought and won silently.
We have the knowledge of the surface of the back of our hand, the crevices and crease, are susceptible to the subtle shifts in the breeze – grimace, while He watches over us, the molecules in the back of our heads and while we navel gaze and play like children.
I’m starting a writers/artists colony. A ryad in Marrakecch and a villa in Tangier – it is free to book and to stay for a month, if your chosen. It would be an all-expenses paid retreat and half your plane ticket will be paid!
Send a sample of your work, the website should be up soon! firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com
Good Luck! :)
Your embrace is Brittle, like wings that were shed on its way to the sun, a little distant, dispersed like smoke on the backdrop of a pale horizon, when you call my name it is tinged with sadness, why do you turn away speak?
I’m starting a new YouTube channel reviewing and discussing various non-fiction and fiction books. I will do this in various location and start a supplementary blog series. I will set myself the challenge of reading 500 books this year, 10 books a week! :) #ReadingIsANecessity #BookWorm
I haven’t spoken to my followers on a deep personal level and I have not revealed to them the depths of my yearning to connect on a sincere level-human to human, writer to writer, poet to poet. I am a shy girl a dear in head lights really stuned by this chaotic human dimension of life, the aggression the mustered forgiveness the routine. I am a recluse with very narrow interest and many loved pets day dreaming over a million rough drafts. I live in a different era a certain era and a certain place (pass the hashish) I love to laugh until the distance between you and is an ancient script we have rolled up a smoked the afternoon away. I love you all because compassion is a heart muscle that swells every time I remember your face while I nestle inconspicuously away from the burning light under-my window while whispering i’m in hell, the pleasures of being a agoraphobic. I am easily charmed by eloquence, I will be wooed by a charismatic cult leader one day to become the new Yoko Ono – become the ultimate anti-Michelle Obama! I wish to one day to lounge around in Tangier squinting and scowling at the sun drinking mint tea abd wearing eccentric sun hats!