Nightfall – Megha Sood

My head resting on fluffy pillows over the satin sheets; soaked with the liquid moon of my broken dreams those little miseries dying slowly  melting in my eyes till my wistful heart can't keep them inside anymore rushing towards their broken deaths etching the lamentation of my soul   My head resting on the wrinkled …

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The Language of the Night – Elena Maria Mana-ay Parcon

I can't put Into words The language of The night    All I know is This silence my soul Has given its sweet surrender    Wherefore art my dreams... Masquerading folly of the unknown  The juggling thoughts  Of a space beyond    Yet simply, The unerring blades of green That surmount the rustling wind, Awaits …

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A close encounter with the grim reaper – Amit

The sky was blackishly clear crystals twinkling, distant cries of wolves over the hills The river emerging from the heart of the mountain like a serpent scales dark For the leaves who lost their hold onto the branches now rattling under the slithering movements of the whistling wind Far across the ravines a dim lamp …

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In My Dream You Are Not Cold – Bojana Stojcic

I’m not shrouded in a blanket of smog as the first of the winter’s heavy pollution hits the city schools don’t shut and there are no warnings for pregnant women (in my dream, there aren’t refineries and power plants to start with). Your mother doesn’t burn your clothes, dispose of the needles, doesn’t tell me …

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Sunday Best: lamplight terrors

Dear reader, It's August! This week's pieces have began the theme of Nightmare and Dreams beautifully and you can catch up below! Before you do so, if you can give or help in anyway, please see these carrds: https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/ https://helplebanon.carrd.co/ https://yemencrisis.carrd.co/ This week's pieces: Tuesday - Prathami Wednesday - Kayla Farrar Thursday - Candice Louisa …

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Meeting Bruckner in Friedrichschafen – Fokkina McDonnell

I A group of bronze geese flanks the church. J S Bach: an organ lesson on the balcony. Friedrichshafen is where radio hams meet, though my brother told me more than once: Father never visited, but he may have spoken of it.   The museum (1930s square and white) on the edge of the Bodensee …

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Observations of a little life – Candice Louisa Daquin

Red and pink underwear clashes well tights before December itch too much the light of the moon is more beautiful than day if I drink more than two glasses of wine... we keep our valentines cards out until Xmas photographs of my father make me want to cry the food channel has more English chefs …

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Which Way Did They Go? – Kayla Farrar

Circles of happenings from the earlier part of connected living spaces Side doors The look of hallways- blurred in that moment Lies when seeking a safe space Eyes in what’s meant to cleanse becomes unnerving  Black coats were worn Plum and periwinkle still pierced through Broken layer of a finger that’s used in expressions of …

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