Helpful McHelpfulpants

He Lusts For Imperfection Even Now I would have you speak of unkind truths, please: not sunshine on the window-glass and soft gloved hands to guide me thus and so, ...

O you wobbling brown rounds of new-fried dough,Piled like a decade of harvest moonsAll in one evening sky-- you tempt me so!I envy e'en the plate on which you soonWill ...

The wind played with her wound-up hairand worried it, and wove a snarewith the soft strands-- so fine and fair--which she had bound up with such care:tormenting it, like tourists ...

suicidal ideationYou rest your hand flat on the pool's tiled wall, and push down-- that is, up, action and reaction, parallel forces-- until your swollen toes brush the rough bottom ...