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standing on sunbeams, with psalms on our hands and feet, we sing broken-voiced.

DAY XXIII I dun even know. suffocate the way my chest trembles in oxygen, fragile with asthmatic remembrances and a shallow knowledge of breath; clutch at hands while I shiver ...

alphabet spinster, with needle and thread and slow syllables collected like buttons in a bag, she speaks soft with a voice like thrush in the wind and there is a ...

dog-eared pages press thick tongues to flowers, pressed into acquiescence and silent fingers tracing words like the elderly people we forget can hear what we say in the hallways; our ...

alphabet spinster, with needle and thread and syllables collected like buttons in a bag, she speaks soft with a voice like thrush in the wind and there is a pattern ...

DAY XXII with ink spilled on skin like oxygen, pearl words rise to the surface from porcelain teeth saying things we thought should never be said (they've lived under our ...

DAY XXI I know, I know-- I've fallen behind and am left spluttering out these 30 second pieces of garbage. I'll try my hand at the saddle again soon enough. ...

DAY XX voices like wicker and songs like sorrow; hands fold in melancholy regret, sympathy for those without a cross to their chest. leavening bread ground under ivory statue teeth ...

DAY XIX even cryptic fingers like these, splayed across the workings of wood and attics and old things left to be devoured by dust cannot keep away the creaks of ...

Kade settled himself into a pensive sit by the fire, chin on fist, elbow on knee. Dsar, sleeping nearby, stirred and her eyes fluttered open, disturbed by his sigh and ...

Ohwow.

Hey there, molly! So, I thought this was a nice piece, though I have a couple of suggestions. 1. Structure This was a very thin and almost flat feeling piece; ...

strawberry blonde-ish hair, maybe hazel eyes, and a big ol' appley smile.

DAY XVIII arborescence lies under my palms in dawn psalms: we tip the bursts of branches under tentative fingers and dose ourselves with a rising sun and crystal spring, keeping ...

saturating like sunlight, frail hands hold a ruler up to the gold, quantification balanced on our fingertips (how much air can my lungs hold before they burst? how many notes ...