Linda Marie Van Tassell > Writing | WritersCafe.org

His dancing petals will no longer sway.

Death stared down with dead eyes from the scaffold, hanging in a twist. We marched by in silence, wrapped in the stench of burnt flesh, swallow..

I think it's sexy ... the way your finger touches my lip, waiting for my tongue to touch its tip, the way it lingers before its silent slip into..

The voice speaks the heart inside of you.

A collection of meandering thoughts ...

I spin on a thread of ravenous fire groping for a god on a burning wave.

Like an impulse, my spirit is soaring, dancing with joy on the wings of the breeze. The heart is like a fountain outpouring, dreaming to dwell in t..

My head is here; my heart is there.

I have found that there are but two things in life which are dependable: the delights of flesh and the delights of literature.

Such sweet collaboration between the body and the mind, the magnanimous devices that the willing dare to find.