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Miss Christine
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Stories
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Books
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listening feet
A Poem by
Miss Christine
back then a child looking down into an upturned mirror feet simply trusting and willing to avoid crushing exposed light bulbs to step con..
my voice, wide open, is a doorway
A Poem by
Miss Christine
this voice— my voice— had hardened around some terrible, secret thing some hidden thing but that thing is dust now and gone..
Last Words
A Story by
Miss Christine
A conversation between a father and daughter after twenty years of silence
In a Motel Parking Lot
A Story by
Miss Christine
Short, dark piece
picking up shards
A Poem by
Miss Christine
the waitress at the table next to me drops a stack of plates and it shatters everything patrons clap and whistle, offer the required jabs as she ..
a caged thing
A Poem by
Miss Christine
this desire to possess you is a barely-caged thing pacing just beneath my skin growling and snarling wanting you wanting to devour you the..
She, the Artist Domme
A Poem by
Miss Christine
She, the Artist Domme, Chips away at your resolve In silence, She carves And you, in silence, tremble Betrayed by your own longing
eight weeks
A Poem by
Miss Christine
It can take so little time to lose oneself in an abusive relationship.
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