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Drinking Ink Like water

Cannonfode digital artpiece by author (prints for sale)

He writes letter to me, does he know how they haunt me, invigorate this worry and indifference, these chills
His letters, they are fire, abone of work and lightbeams. I hunger to hear word, and then like red rain, they light my twigs asunder
I could slip away, and be nothing, be less than, be normal
and yet his fire comes and rewickerates me anew
I’m trying to be fair, there is nothing wrong in him, and yet…



Purveyors of Provocative Prose & Poetry. Serving up sublime mind-elixirs & intoxicating ideas. Imbibe for creative invigoration — weekly prompts, pithy articles & prose poetry alchemy.

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Fox Kerry

Fox Kerry

If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.