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maureen Sep 2019
blazing wintertime
a white, silent wolf weeping
at plane's betrayal.
maureen Sep 2019
fingertips on mine
tell me that you'll wait for me
dawn breaks; the day comes.
Rebecca Wolohan Jun 2015
The couple sat together on opposite wings of the jet plane. “I would like to know you from the inside out. To swim up through your toes and fingertips and learn to be as you are,” she called to him. He replied, “Your pain and despair taste like spinach but I will eat them anyway.” She peered at him across the sky, saying, “I do not understand your hills and valleys, the forests and seas that inhabit the recesses of your heart. Show them to me, let me learn how they sound.”  To which he answered, “Your joy and compassion taste like caviar and I wish I was richer.”

— The End —