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#layout
For reason Unknown While looking at you If their conscience Penetrates the depth Sometimes Without saying You are beautiful You may hear Your layout is Outstanding Realize that ***** is an artist
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Jan 12, 2020
Jan 12, 2020 at 9:55 AM UTC
Language Of Art
friends                                                                           a relationship                                                    timing     its a shame you fell in love and out of it before I could catch up     and now im left mourning what never was     with only my thoughts     a pen     and     citrus
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Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 7:57 PM UTC
commitment
I don't know what you prioritise. I don’t know what is most important content that I need to show! I don’t know how to look visually consistent across your programs. I don’t know how to target your HUBs. I don't know how to scale up. All is I'm lost with no signal of yours. I'm lost on these distant and lone cords. I’m lost with these no out-of-device solutions. Yet I’m consistently scaling your layout across devices to advance the experience of your social class. ©Feelings Coated
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Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
I don’t know yet scaling
i pick, wash, slice the orange and     lift a slice towards my                          lips chewing on the flesh that is sweet with great ambition and pulp, taking my mind to hot summer                             days then my teeth sinks into the harsh reality that inhabits the                     rind                                                fibrous strands hang in my teeth-          so annoying-       so frustrating- so bitter-                   slipping  down to my innards down               down                     down                                                                             my fingers are                    together                                                           sticking                                                                             but i won't be disheartened for i hold the slice and squeeze               and       after a       time               my tongue is         kissed by                            the last                of juice                             drops                               the best                 of juice the                of knowledge that I ingest with drops age
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 2:52 PM UTC
Slice
i pick, wash, slice the orange and     lift a slice towards my                          lips chewing on the flesh that is sweet with great ambition and pulp, taking my mind to hot summer                             days then my teeth sinks into the harsh reality that inhabits the                     rind                                                fibrous strands hang in my teeth-          so annoying-       so frustrating- so bitter-                   slipping  down to my innards down               down                     down                                                                             my fingers are                    together                                                           sticking                                                                             but i won't be disheartened for i hold the slice and squeeze               and       after a       time               my tongue is         kissed by                            the last                of juice                             drops                               the best                 of juice the                of knowledge that I ingest with drops age
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An open letter to those poets who align to the center:                                         *When prose sits in the middle                                          it resembles gift-card drivel.                                              It cheapens your work;                                               your use of italics irks.* Choose a side. I don’t care if it’s left or                                                                                       right,                                                                                   Or center-right                                                                                               or alt-right (whatever that is). The indecisive have a lot to answer for us being                                                                                                         divisive. Did that centered poem you wrote distract you from casting a vote? Stop fence-sitting                                                             in-between and enjoy a splintered 2017,                                                                                                from one side.
0
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC
Center Alignment
An open letter to those poets who align to the center:                                         *When prose sits in the middle                                          it resembles gift-card drivel.                                              It cheapens your work;                                               your use of italics irks.* Choose a side. I don’t care if it’s left or                                                                                       right,                                                                                   Or center-right                                                                                               or alt-right (whatever that is). The indecisive have a lot to answer for us being                                                                                                         divisive. Did that centered poem you wrote distract you from casting a vote? Stop fence-sitting                                                             in-between and enjoy a splintered 2017,                                                                                                from one side.
Continue reading...
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