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Metamorphosismy heart is like the ocean
and you are the tempest
and the black night sky
is the blanket holding in our warmth.
swaying waters are my heart shifting
and the winds
and the tide:
these are our dances through time.
hourglass, oh hourglass,
you're singing such a lovely song
and oh, the thunder
is booming along.
you are sending me spiraling,
whirlpools of fluttering feelings
larger than my whole body;
wishes are fishes and i've got a billion
and you're moving each and every one.
closer are we every instant
and lightning flashes are
the storm kissing the waves,
lighting up the whole open sky.
sweet wonder it is
to feel my swelling self,
and I can feel you all around me.
and i can
see the sun,
and i am now the sky.
Winter NightsIt wasn't that Emily hated the winter. No, in fact, it was the only time she could light a fire in her rather well-sized fire pit. What she hated was the snow. The squishy, wet, sloppy, muddy, disgusting snow. Everywhere she went, it was under her feet, in her clothes, on her hair. It was just awful. And now, it was keeping her caged inside her house like she was some sort of animal from which the world needed protection. She huffed. It was just awful.
It wasn't as though Emily was in danger. She was a tad on the paranoid side, so she always stocked up on food and supplies; her utilities were working just fine, and her phone lines were far from being down. But it had been nearly a week since she had been outside, and she was starting to get restless.
At first, she just stayed in because it was snowing at all. Those damned little white flakes were just so annoying.
The Parlour IncidentOne day in July, I believe it was, I found myself sitting with several acquaintances in Christopher's parlour. It was one of those deliciously lazy afternoons which only the summer in her full glory can bring. The room had a wan, listless light to it, relaxing the other guests and myself as we languidly chatted over tea and crumpets. The air was also sluggishly heavy, dulling the senses to a slowly-blended calm engendered by the heat of St. Othniel's southerly climate.
At length, after much stimulating conversation, Christopher stood, producing a book of sheet music.
"What do you all say to a bit of music?" he asked.
"Certainly," I answered.
"Oh yes, please do darling!" Tabitha exclaimed, "he's quite the maestro."
Christopher laughed, shaking his head.
"Now, now love, I'd not go that far."
He strode over to the piano as the other guests urged him on. Ida entered the room bearing a merrily steaming teapot and more crumpets.
"More tea sirs?" she inquired, shooting sideways glances at her
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More