- I imagine this: we stare and compute ink stains on thinly sliced, pressed trees and create hallucinations in our heads about a life that is not reality.
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Empty Promises
A short poem built for spoken-word readings. Easy to read and from the heart, www.abitofselin.wordpress.com...
This is now
A ballad to one who embraced the freedom of escape. Short story, for those who want to/have travelled and fel...
