Here is where my creativity went today:
This pie has cranberries, Granny Smith apples, lots of white sugar, apple cider vinegar, the juice and rind from one small orange, a little lemon juice, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, almond extract, tapioca for thickening, and a homemade whole wheat crust.
Goodness, I hope it tastes all right. It’s pretty, at least.
Happy pre-Thanksgiving cooking frenzy!
I like this.
In short, Jane is fan-frigging-tastic and you should be reading her poetry.
https://nakedinfiniverse.home.blog/
Eponine talks about my book. I’m gonna cry. Being respected by writers I respect cracks the shell of my crusty shriveled heart.
via A Mad Dash and the Value of Fantasy
(Fiction)
There’s a light in your eyes that I’ve never seen before. I can’t read it.
Then I’ll read your lips. Kiss me.
Ah.
They’re cold.
Is it over?
What did you find out about yourself?
I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
I miss you already, and you haven’t even walked out the door.
It’s only a matter of time.
I am so lonely. I’m lonelier with you by my side, than I think I would be alone.
You left the house warm. But you returned different.
What did you find out about yourself?
Do you know what I lost for you?
Do you know what I would lose again?
I would clutch you close, if there was a shred of connection left between us. Even a filament is enough to start a bridge. But the space between you and me is already too vast. No rope, no tree roots, not even a spiderweb.
I see you across the expanse and think, what made our bridge fall?
Why won’t you talk about it?
What did you find out about me?
Fresh Hell 