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Literature Text
She leaves,
renouncing the air
she stirs
between
corpulent nylon thighs
along with her dinner.
She returns,
thin as her skin
with overcooked hair
and apostate bones enslaved
in claustrophobic
flesh.
renouncing the air
she stirs
between
corpulent nylon thighs
along with her dinner.
She returns,
thin as her skin
with overcooked hair
and apostate bones enslaved
in claustrophobic
flesh.
Literature
Wondering
Wondering
He had left his office for a two-hour meeting with a client (mostly schmoozing and ego-stroking, as usual), and had just crossed Broadway in front of the Trinity Church, on his way back to his old office building on John Street. About 50 yards ahead, he was alerted by the flash of metal poles, and then saw a small figure, dressed in white, through a momentary gap in the crowd on the sidewalk, moving to his right down Broadway, toward Battery Park.
Having a little free time, he decided to walk in that direction, curious to see more. Moving quickly at first, he wa
Literature
amputee
"Oh s*it what did I just step on!" Jayme yelled.
"Damnit I stepped in glass I better go upstairs and bandage my foot and clean up this mess."
Jayme proceeded to hop upstairs as it hurt to much to put weight on her cut open foot. She bandaged her foot in gause and some ace wrap but she still felt a sharp pain coming from her heel. She tried everything to distract her from the pin but nothing seemed to work. As the day passed and she proceeded to bed. But she could not sleep either. She stayed awake lying as the pain from her foot got worse and worse. She decided to go into emerg and see what the problem was. Luckiy she cut her left foot so s
Literature
It wasn't meant to be like this.
I'm laid here, in the knowledge that our fantasies, everything we wished for, has happened. The fiction we've read online, the pretending we've done. It's not supposed to feel like this. I'm supposed to struggle to seem outwardly distressed but secretly be so happy. We are supposed to smile knowingly at each other, feel turned on and look forward to our exciting future together.
I'm laid here, with my husband ashen faced, looking like his tears have run dry. I'm laid here thinking how I don't want this. How I can't do this. How I'm an idiot for ever wanting this.
My husband has had to break the news to me that I'm in hospital. That they had
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Comments11
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This is exactly the kind of poetry I enjoy reading at present - short, striking and emotive.