“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Saturday, November 17, 2018
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Ebb and Flow
The seagull shrieking in the near distance is the cry of my heart for the sea I so long to be near once again. The puffy slanted clouds ar...

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When I wonder do we first think we Are welcome to the world? From the abyss of a watery womb we hear outside of Us w...
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Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...
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We know more about people we've never known than ever before. Before now, you did not know who you did not know, and who you ...
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