Loki Wyrd Posted March 7, 2005 Report Share Posted March 7, 2005 Charcoal smeared faces stare out from the canvas. Expressionless. Paltry meals taste like their day’s labor, deepening their hunger. There’s no desire. No bounty. Nothing to take away with them. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Loki Wyrd Posted March 7, 2005 Author Report Share Posted March 7, 2005 Needing isolation to grow, I find myself rooted to the roof. The sunlight washes over my eyes so that all I see is the blue sky above--portentous expanse holding me upright. I am unafraid to call to you; I only fear your answer. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Zadown Posted March 7, 2005 Report Share Posted March 7, 2005 I like the second one - it tastes like summer, real and metaphorical. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Loki Wyrd Posted March 14, 2005 Author Report Share Posted March 14, 2005 The Substrate of Humanity Words, in all their complexities and subtleties certain to differentiate, and yet so meticulously interweave; sought by fibers, silently colonizing. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Loki Wyrd Posted March 27, 2005 Author Report Share Posted March 27, 2005 (edited) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Furrowed in a bed of hair, lachrymose thing of wan appeal, saturated by glabrous stares lunging for their dollar's worth. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Edited March 27, 2005 by Loki Wyrd Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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