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Literature Text
wistaria blooms once
and then again,
rotting sweet on trellises,
nursed at the breast of clouds
pregnant with filth,
swallowing manors
and their stately gardens,
choking june's gentler flowers
with lilac facade,
petals whispered twice.
and then again,
rotting sweet on trellises,
nursed at the breast of clouds
pregnant with filth,
swallowing manors
and their stately gardens,
choking june's gentler flowers
with lilac facade,
petals whispered twice.
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Literature
and even so, you stayed
I taste rain on your lips
and I know you’ve been
writing poetry again.
I breathe into the touch
of your fingers
cascading in a soft scale
down the cage of bones
around my heartbeat.
you kiss me
knowing
the colors that drift
in my mind
like water beneath
all the bridges that were
burned for me
and you stay.
Literature
Of All the Places in the Universe
She was a button girl. Thirteen and already too old to be beautiful with grimy cheekbones accented by listless, golden-gray hair. She spent her time trying to sell her collection, dozens of buttons lined neatly in a haggard box. The large one with tiny flowers etched into them, a plain navy one, and the bright pink button were her favorites. They were the ones she hoped would find a home in some little girl's cherished dress or a mother's apron.
With her coat straining around her, eyes crowded with years of cold and unease, she held out her box to a passerby. Buttons flashed in the muted light, but the man scoffed as he continued past her. S
Literature
the witch's house.
I want to be the home of whispers,
the house of dripping water and blooming
plants, the shelter of childish drawings
and books with broken spines; I want to
hear the gossiping mothers tell their gossiping
daughters how my home is full of fresh air and
the feeling of watching a sunrise in a new country.
The windows would all be open, gauzy and
bright curtains billowing in the breeze
the high rise would always have, and no door
would have a lock and some doorways would
have no door; music would drift to the
pavement below and everyone would hear
the crooning voices of men with diamonds for
teeth and the plucked strings of instruments that
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