Writer Between Worlds

Soulful writing about humans and places

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Why?

why am I woman and not 
apple blossom bee grass blue heron seabed? 
the same cosmic black tongue 
coiling around them all and 
licking the plate clean.

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My inner mystic is plagued by insomnia and runs entirely on divine grace. The outer shell, however, does occasionally need: jasmine tea, ice cream (preferably salted caramel), good books, music, and new horizons. If you’d like to help keep this blog alive, please choose an amount:

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