For every childvowed to be the calyxto cradle each budding soulwith a tender heart But I am imperfectideals devolvingin the face of losscross unbearable Tend my own garden nowrecognizing the powerof example overridingoppression of control. (Image my own)
Concrete is cold, imposingdoes nothing for aesthetics At least we’re protected,I tell the littles, ignoring Snot dripping, slimeoozing from unsealedwindowsills, cobwebsand bits of shedding pink It’s the best I can do:four walls and a roof. Except the ceilingis bulging, mold and rotcertain to rain down on us While upstairs, the manignores the leaks, luxuriatesin his […]
Erasing the past –collecting ash with chopsticks –infertile practiceembrace, learn, and recreatewe are clay – artist’s magic.
I love orange, for me it is a colour of vitality
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Yes!
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And nothing would rhyme with you, either lol. Beautiful color. It’s all just brown here.
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Lol…pretty sure nothing rhymes with me anyway. Stay warm
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P.J. rhymes with V.J. lol That would make you the perfect person to cuddle with!!
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Yes! Yes! Perfect.
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I thought so, too 😉
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Very nice. Orange brightens everything!
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Thanks. I think so.
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You write it so lovely, VJ–I’m not so found of orange, find it glaring…but you’ve shown me a far different view!
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You are very sweet.
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Wow, this is incredibly beautiful, the words and the imagery you created in these three lines.
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Thanks Hélène – my favourite colour, lol.
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