MistakenMagic

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryWordsworth's Secret MistakenMagic1613 years 2 months ago
StoryConceptual seashore2613 years 2 months ago
StoryPaper trail shoe2013 years 2 months ago
StoryDream Cord london_calling79813 years 2 months ago
StoryNightfall Daniel Saint-John513 years 2 months ago
StoryUnder The Mistletoe (Christmas Love Song) well-wisher213 years 2 months ago
StoryScarred skinner_jennifer3113 years 2 months ago
StoryBlue on Blue Silver Spun Sand1313 years 2 months ago
StorySpace maggyvaneijk2313 years 2 months ago
StoryGay Encounters - unsexy mathematical bakery poem.. littleditty1713 years 2 months ago
StoryWhite Roses Lem413 years 2 months ago
StoryNow that you're gone, I can't quite remember which one you were - poem 3 (abroad, at sea) london_calling79713 years 2 months ago
StoryWant and Need jennifer1013 years 2 months ago
StoryEarly Snowflakes oldpesky3713 years 2 months ago
StoryYou can't go to OZ for Christmas shoe1113 years 2 months ago
StoryFor The Benefit Of A Lone Kite Dynamaso613 years 2 months ago
StorySwimming with a mermaid. ScoZen1413 years 2 months ago
StoryCowgirls in Oxford Circus maggyvaneijk2313 years 2 months ago
StoryPossibility Beeme913 years 2 months ago
StoryHey! (IP) well-wisher1213 years 2 months ago
StoryArcheologist lenchenelf813 years 2 months ago
Storysleep animan413 years 2 months ago
StoryMoon Shadows threeleafshamrock1713 years 2 months ago
StoryThe Little Pill gingeresque613 years 2 months ago
StoryMy dead diary - zombies and alcohol rjnewlyn1513 years 2 months ago

My stories

Cherry

I Remember

I remember a time when the names didn’t hurt me. That hazy untouchable feeling of a strolling concrete block.
Cherry

Growing Apart

In the beginning we were like county borders – the divide only manmade; our geography the same. Like landscapes we lay entwined -

Spoils of War

The corpses of crabs float bloated and white, belly up in the shallows; the ghosts of spiders - condemned to the jaws of a plughole.
Cherry

Wordsworth's Secret

Rhythm spreads from the poem in rings, vibrating the water, kissing my toes in iambic pentameter. It congregates around the couplet of my ankles.

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