<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Jasmine | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/allthatjazz</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Jasmine</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776149094</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>Fisherman</title>
			<description>Reel me in,&amp;nbsp;spike through my lip,I am pushed into dependence,drowning in your air.I followed the gentle murmurs of praiselike a swimmer to the surface.You have me,&amp;nbsp;and triumph slaps your faceand mine,knocking me against the bed...the pleasure of a practiced fisherman.The afternoon you came..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allthatjazz/1055331/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>The Meeting</title>
			<description>The eager owl spoke of you often,of your great beauty and ruthlessnesslike a hawk.Her infatuation clouded my truthuntil we met and I discovered just another quiet presenceand a clearer mirror in the hallway.She could not realise the power of perspective.From an angle of the early hoursyou erased a l..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allthatjazz/1054409/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Worrier</title>
			<description>We were talking about love, you and I.You asked how, but I couldn't explain.Language failed its reason for existence, again.I think of this infliction,with its far-reaching fingersinfinite like stars,&amp;nbsp;ephemeral like stars burning.pain.I think of the steam he and I layer on the windowswhen we co..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allthatjazz/1054308/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Black</title>
			<description>Your skin, your skin, I treasure it now.Flesh, you wonderful thing, in your short decades of thriving.I stroke your black hair from your face,black lashes closed and long.I know a strange ache, then.You tell me little, unable to translate&amp;nbsp;the void you hold inside.In my world of light, I am immu..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/allthatjazz/1054301/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>