Dance dance dance blue flame
for the wind shall blow again
hence, your dance shall end
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Pamela Walsh-Holte and writers in Poets and other communities.
I know its true because it happened, you see! When I was a young girl I awoke from my sleep I ran to the front room in one giant leap.
By Pamela Walsh-Holte3 years ago in Poets
We used to mock the liquid Looking down from our frosty blue parapets Impervious to doubt and pain Clean and pristine as an original idea
By D. J. Reddall4 days ago in Poets
The Anxious Mind It doesn’t shout it taps a finger to the glass checks the locks again asks the same old question what if
By George’s Girl 2026 6 days ago in Poets
Dear Wife— At first, I hesitated to go forward with this resolution. But after your recent late-night binges scarfing down bags of chicharrónes—those pork rinds you dip in butter and the god-awful crunch they make, I knew I could no longer reach you.
By Lamar Wiggins3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.