#FreeVerse
So these are the hills of home. H… nearly subliminal. To see them is… double, hear bad puns delivered wi… An untoward familiarity. Rising from my sleep, the road is…
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
The idea that they were reenacting something which had been staged in the first place bothered her. If she wanted to go on, she’d need to ignore this limp chronology. She assumed he was...
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
It’s as if we’ve just been turned… in order to learn that the beetle we’ve caught and are now devouring is our elder brother
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,