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*For You... as I like to think
She comes to him like a light
Not like a sunbeam nor a shaft between high-rises
Not a ray poking through voluminou..
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It was time. Nine months
since their first innocuous exchange. The time it takes for a child to
be born, only this child was conceived through wor..
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There
is a distinct aloneness - when you can't remember the last time lips
touched your own or the last time you launched yourself at someone,
b..
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In a world beyond the
known, far from the ties that bind to life, a scorpion sits gazing up at
stars - even those shining brighter than of his lov..
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Everything is a mystery
cloaked and enveloped between lust and the protective ties binding
eternal love which is but a vain attempt to capture thi..
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There's a place - you know - those travels in the night, those mental 'sneaking out of houses'...
there's a place. And in that place, reality is but..
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So she thinks... what
makes a writer? She cannot feel the normal emotions others feel; she
sits staring at screens, her mind a million miles away ..
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The writer sits in
waiting. Observing from outside the façade - having been suddenly thrust
into the living and the breathing world, outwar..
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You sensed it. The
moment the pinnacle was reached; when you stood at the dizzying height
and you gazed around - the hard climb up, the relatively..
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There are some beings.
Some take them for granted; others spend a lifetime in pursuit, an
endless just around the corner quest where there are onl..
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