http://slow.writerscafe.org/amanda_joy The original writings of author amanda_joy en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776010168 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Your voice is like a telephone ringing in a room with all the doors taken off and windows broken. I am sitting cross-legged and bare-arsed in its centre and it fills me like a sound; which is what it is, your voice, a sound. It is yours and my senses are sharpened by it. Your words fall like small s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/215852/    Your kissThe dark shadowbetween your open lipsor the mouth surrounding it givespleasure http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/215796/ I scratch out these marks in space                     attempt to anchor                  &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/214186/ The colour came later, Past the dark cluttered words.Tonight we spoke like a frequency graph,Like a landscape without edges,Extruded strokes of light to my lips like fingersstretching through the architecture of your words.To cocoon the sounds in my ear longerI scavenge images .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/211954/ Deceptively simplethe old photo you sentof that windblown girlSome jagged arrangementof cheekbones and armsJutting out of nine hole bootsa little comedy of red knees pulled in close as kittensto hide a budding chestThe shapes you gave those grey shadows The rash of textur.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/211694/  This lucid collusion-

The thieving cat of your mind
The gulping fish of my heart

Eyeing each other 
from different sides of a quivering waterline

Knowing without their separation
The poem will devour itself http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/191875/ In a handor a pocketconcealedclosewhile waitinga stonea seedas some things passyou byKeep it tiny remindertoo smallto fill armsor suitcasesor whoyou are meantto bewhen daysend as cloudsthere vividlybe  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/191862/ In these hours before dawnthat aren’t night-timeMy hands feel emptyAll daythey move aboutwithout seeing themselvesThey point at thingsOnly one of them is quickerAs your eye settles on other thingsSliding over the pageit feels and concealsDoodles the mind&rsquo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/191861/ Little glass pen that I chew on,wound my expression withwet closeness of cut lips.To answer him with sticky kisses.Undo the corset ofdiminishing faith,unsigned, unsighed,unsounded air, thatfills my mouth with gifts.Sealed and forgotten in pink bows;the colour of hearts whic.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/154000/ Rembrandt’s careful eyes didn’t betray himLike he’d always feared in time they wouldHis painted fascination, drowning pools of umberWith flashes of thin splashed mink-haired whiteMouth, ears, hands, high foreheads, soft necksAll sensed through shared visions of a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/amanda_joy/153998/