http://slow.writerscafe.org/angiewriter The original writings of author Angela H. en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776183204 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 From another woman’s womb came an angel, black and blue.Watercolored pink by love’s blind palpations,she floated in fizzy bubbles for years, steeping, till arms and legs pushed out, turning and twisting, till dark imaginings pushed out, waxing and waning,till buried fret brok.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angiewriter/741425/ this artifact of twigs and string and mud and spitthe occasional sparkly find, pedestaled amidst the bric-a-bracthis woven home  is tainted but i bulge with eggs, consumed with pre-fruitionlost in the belly of what could bei need to squat and producei need to be safe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angiewriter/740682/ His blue was nice.  It relaxed me.But his red made my temples throb, and more.I found myself dancing.From the violet perimeter, she stepped out and cut in,lofty and regal, oozing authority,roping his red, dragging him away,but I kept on dancing.   Why shouldn’.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angiewriter/740171/ Miss Priss. That’s what she called me, and it wasn’t fair. She didn’t even know me. She could’a called me honey, or darlin’, or sweetie pie, or any of the usual sugary names that people use when they don’t know you and feel a need to talk down to you a little bit .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angiewriter/739739/ In the center of the grief storm, in the eye of the hurricane, there is peace, I’m told, a steadfast beam.I feel its pull... I think I do, as I toss about in these outer gravitations where questions, memories, longings, regretspummel and bang, dissolving into overtones of a bittersweet song. I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angiewriter/739738/ She sits in the parkin a second-hand sweatsuit,her face extraordinarily ordinary,her hands the veteransof seven vigorous decades,now blowing bubblesfrom a dime-store bottle,her eyes, had they been delved,the couriersof timeless passion,amidst a string of passersbywho nod in her directionwith blank&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/angiewriter/739624/