Long lines of sight,
sharp relief of light,
time measured by the
slant of the sun—
my eyes adjust to
this unfamiliar scale—
mountains leap clearly
through hot air, as
this background makes
my foreground small.
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It's haiku time again in creative writing class
Coffee is bitter fuel that brings a sweetness, lifting my spirits. Empty hanging file folders, holding only the hope of less clut...
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How many lenses have we passed through, how many times have we bent in darkness, felt gravity's capricious hand alter our cour...
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Serial monogamy sounds like a crime. A felony, at least. Big shout out to all you lurkers.
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