Prose
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Present strength, as one would love. Present weakness, as one would be loved. Oh, love, how it causes dividing currents to be conjoined, unified, under the waking hours of the rising sun. Its burning forehead, so much our fever to a dying night in our sweats, where we said that tomorrow could not come quick…
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It is that our heroism ignites our own flag stabbed in the ground’s hole, that we know how love also feels. Oh, the weakness, the sicknesses that are raised so much like the flag, that it never stands evenly. It motions with the winds that run like treading fear through a less-than-stable mind. Love. That…
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“To not Sink a Friend” is a tale of a man’s battle with his mind in his sudden need to revel in anger, raised against his negligence to befriend a beloved who he once placed all devotion. A tale of misunderstood manipulation from said once-beloved, in the wrong belief that she is at fault. A…
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Her appearance had been, as it still is, a force of endearment over Anton’s visage, washing his face with her colors. Everything he was witness to, during her life, is again, written even now in every crease to his cheeks and lips. It is this way, while he strains to withhold tears. While he strains…
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It is somewhat often that a man will find himself to be nestled near to silence, as if his arms were wrapped about the form of a woman. Her comfort is brought into that solace, that silence, because she seemingly has nothing to fear. What of Anton? He raises himself, to form steps with the…
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Love. That emotion the foolish despise, or the wise will take up. It is that emotion that never lets the last breath escape, without the lover leaning to take it in. It is that emotion that does not let go, for it waits until time cannot move any more clocks, or when the galaxies cannot…
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Chapter One “From the eyes of an angel, the black one, there are no more wings to look at. It is even when the sun is out or the moon is full, that the light does not come to her. In the darkness, in her own, there is only the recognition of a sheer blackness…
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I begged her song to be written for me, in what colors she could pour out, from a throat made of silver. Though, I simply waited while her sigh, the last one, drew out the silver breath from her lungs, against the fiery coldness of winter. Of what I saw, of that silver breath, against…
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Concept: A woman about as beautiful as many, always seats herself before a mirror to adorn herself in cosmetic, to appear attractive, for no one. That mirror is her curse for loneliness. Though there is a man who represents the “peeping tom” in this story. He always comes to view this woman in the window,…
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I caught her beside the portrait, fairly new to its beholding. I caught where she sighed a breath to disturb the oils, or perhaps cause it to dry a bit faster. I caught how her hair fell down just an inch longer, after the time passed during my initial painting of her. She had thrown…
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Love is that emotion that threads the universe to the stars. He walks with the gait of someone who comprehends something that another wouldn’t. Love that is left not felt, is what he gathers in arms so heavy. Truly the treasured emotion he finds to be comforting, can always ease the darkness in anyone, as…
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And, it is Alessio’s eyes that have caught the sight, again. He feeds a string to her gaze, of a woman recognized for much attraction. Bold in her shape, and gentle in her step. Yet, it is as if no one else, besides Alessio, has noticed her. Again with the pink band about her waist,…
Modern Romanticism 