Prose
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To assure the solemn, then begin to reassure that one in those depths. Assuming first that a man here is not crying because of the weather, as no dark clouds exist within the sapphire-blue skies. Omit then that they could have been the culprit to his mood. If the sun is great and bright, then…
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She undresses herself to the perpetuating tune. The offset of the offbeats, running ripples in soundwaves through heatwaves. There is an aridness to the room she stands in. Her clothes fall like landslides from her velvet flesh, though were loose to begin with. A pair of eyes, glancing to riveting nudity. A man sees a…
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I Dusty Skin Now when all stars are dusted over with skyglow, we take our faces to what is still gleaming. It is forming. Guiding a man. A man who left the sun to rot in his chest, though the moon still pulls him. What forms, from nothingness, is a small, stripped piece of what…
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Liam ended with a question in the same method he uses to enter or begin something else. The inquiry for his surname, the last word to a very fundamental identity. The lack of himself not knowing what is, of a surname, so basic and yet, retains itself at the core of all persons. Liam does…
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I Beyond the Unknown Door The first step will hurt. The first step will reopen the wound. Sometimes, it healed not back into color. When monochrome fills the skies, there comes the symptom of wanderlust to keep a person living. When those colors return, reality will sparkle. When the turn comes for someone like Liam,…
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She rises. Then, she falls. Her eyes drift from one corner to the next, tracing the shadows. Nothing had been forgotten where it was removed. Absolutely nothing was stolen. Each item that was placed, whether on a dresser or against the wall, remained in her heart. Nothing special was misplaced, out of proportion, or even…
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Synopsis: “Wound” takes place in a fictional town where its citizens have their bodies possessed by the spirits of the previous generation that lived here. None of the residents are able to heal from wounds, whether mental or physical. This is due to the concepts around the paranormal, that a ghost refuses to move on…
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I want to part these lips for light. He chooses to open his mouth, though the blank pages remain. Whether I or him, whether the world full of silhouettes and sighs or the singular man who kneels here will want to breathe for what means to go, it goes without accepting. Short of time, and…
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“I think, that when I look at the night, I can see something still so mesmerizing of color as the day. I can see nothing missing in detail, never deprived of either vividness nor shape. A flawless form; though, dead with the teardrops that fell, while in desperation, attempting to raise a garden from a…
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“I think, that when I look at the night, I can see something still so mesmerizing of color as the day. I can see nothing missing in detail, never deprived of either vividness nor shape. A flawless form; though, dead with the teardrops that fell, while in desperation, attempting to raise a garden from a…

