I dreamed last night that I was writing a story for
ashlyme. All I can remember is a garden and sunlight on a web of raindrops. Some bricks. A painted door. And something dead, but I don't think that's unusual for either of our stories or dreams.
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Active Entries
- 1: I've got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
- 2: There's more room on the basement couch
- 3: When we take on new bodies, I will scour the earth to find you again
- 4: Ma twll yn y pridd yn Alltwalis lle taflaf fy mhryderon
- 5: Now there's always someone else in the back of your mind
- 6: And the fisherman collects, yes, they collect the sounds from their nest above
- 7: A kidnapper wouldn't jump into a cold sea
- 8: A stranger light comes on slowly
- 9: I might fail math if you don't move your shoulder
- 10: One boundary makes another
Style Credit
- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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