Amber Doll > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

The lover and I, we know the scorching touch of hand And of hangnails and glances The lover and I, we know the involuntary rush of sweat gla..

kinda Bukowski. - i'm really really really sorry.

waking at nine at night to the sound of my mother asking when did you buy those books? I didn’t, They were a gift from LoveI sa..

Man proclaims glass homes are not made for stone throwers. This home is translucent, built of gem and raindrops; Which begat the lake, home ..

done in six minutes.

Introduction to the Ode entitled: To Bits and Pieces and Particles. I seem to always find bizarre meaning in the mundane. Over the weekend, I was..

Days droned. He lay stretched in binds upon thick oxen pelt, perturbed and drunken upon melancholy, knowing all beauty was made to be brief. Her ..

These blossoming vines sang dirges, this willow’s skirt, blew upwards upon will of the wind, playing gaily in the coiffure upon his beatifi..

I held the dramatically beautiful geranium gently in one ashen palm and told it, whispering, only whispering, of its redolence and darling gaze,..

wanted to do something that doesn't try too hard. i also wanted to do a kind of brief dialogue poem. here we are.