anipani

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryUpon the usefulness of time anipani211 years 7 months ago
Storywalking the dog anipani211 years 7 months ago
StoryProof of inheritance anipani211 years 7 months ago
StorySkyewalking anipani111 years 7 months ago
StoryMoonstruck anipani111 years 7 months ago
StoryLife or death anipani011 years 7 months ago
StoryLight and shade anipani011 years 7 months ago
StoryTime means nothing here anipani411 years 7 months ago
StoryPark benches and red dresses anipani011 years 7 months ago
StoryTribute to Kew anipani211 years 7 months ago
Storytears, no tears anipani111 years 7 months ago
Storytie me down anipani111 years 7 months ago
Storymissing you anipani111 years 7 months ago
Storymorning Rapture anipani011 years 7 months ago
StoryMoving in time anipani011 years 7 months ago
StoryLaundry woman anipani011 years 7 months ago
StoryLiving like falling anipani011 years 7 months ago
Storythe emptiness anipani211 years 7 months ago
Storythe sounds of music anipani011 years 7 months ago
StoryIn time, and place. anipani311 years 7 months ago
Storyit's a matter of taste. anipani111 years 7 months ago
StoryInterference anipani011 years 7 months ago
StoryIn the park with Van Morrison anipani011 years 7 months ago
StoryI'm not selling anipani111 years 7 months ago
StoryI find Keats in Rome anipani011 years 7 months ago

My stories

After a visit to vincent

Look to Seneca and Rumi, and then, turn to your heart,

Encounters in the nighttime

It's years later, I'm meeting you still, in dreams, where only there will I make you come. You're so far away and above me, years and marriages and money stand arm in arm, blocking

Skyewalking

Where can the heart go - here, but be still? Pulled; then cushioned by rhythm of river, rhythm of rain. Pulsing, meeting the beating, thrum and thrust of the living
Cherry

First times

‘What did she say’ -Father ‘‘ I like pink’ -Mother ‘What did you say I said’- Girl ‘I like pink’ -Mother ‘I‘m not going to live with you any more’.- Girl

Why Cry?

Why cry? Now it's Autumn and leaves are falling copiously as tears. Tears will stain the book; ink will run and all my thoughts will be undone. Why cry? Outside clouds rush by,

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