i don't want to be party to all that you want me to be, ever. miss a beat in the main point, tell me how i could be. vague terms; confused. ignore my way of thinking; shut down argument and go on your way.
No, I didn't write another book. Not yet. Instead, Intangible is my new series on Channillo, a sort of web serial thing in which the creators are supported by the payments made on series subscriptions. To date, I've released three poems there. The first is a short piece called measure by measure and ponders the ways in… Continue reading Introducing: Intangible
sun glows neon-bright in the midday sky. this time of year, it's not warm. beams of light ripple through trees; trying to capture the image is fun. later, i crank the lever on a wishing well and toss some coins back.
they try to tell me that a true lady stays still. she doesn't explore. i choose to shove this aside, run through the best of a new adventure, and make a highlights display later. they don't think a lady should be her own person.
there's micro temptation in each way you create chaos here. carrot and the stick: i want to come back, to relapse. really shouldn't. maybe you could close yourself off for a day or two, let the dust clear, leave me be - i refuse.
clumsy hands move to light a line of candles, all shrouded in shadow. movements are slow, and inefficient. the goddess will not be pleased yet. she waits for a sign, ready to demonstrate her worship, and falters.
one quick breeze has arrived. it skims over the ocean, ruffles the water into peaks that are near-identical. white foam tops the crest before it dissolves, gone in an unseen pattern. on the sand, fish and chip papers rustle.