http://slow.writerscafe.org/cam16cr The original writings of author Cassandra en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776122252 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 When being alive is so beautiful it hurtsThe sharp edge of a crystal clear knifeSlicing through youNot always a clean cutOccasionally spewingBloodIntestinesLiam's silly laughMy sweet boyMy most simple joyand then youMy complicated happinessWithout itI M stagnantSuspended in this gooThat never seems .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cam16cr/1943420/ I adore the way the dust motes spin lazily Through curtains of sun And the way the atoms of my body... Wobble I slip into the silence of corners and cracks These unstirred places Your slender fingers, dangle Still and asleep I follow your laugh, The corners of your lips reaching Reaching And the s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cam16cr/1340088/ Like the roots of the eggplants in my garden My toes curl into the dirt. I can look up and imagine that the sky is all that exist. ... The suns heat seeps through my hair While granules of dirt cling to my bare knees and elbows Crouched next to green fuzzy stalks and upturned faces I feel thi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cam16cr/1340087/ For better or worseyou are like the sun to me. A spinning, massive bodyEssentialmy skies brightest starYou burnScorchfever my skinAnd I spinning all around youso caught in the force of your pullam but the most insignificant fragmentthe heated rockwithin a comets tailBeing near youthe torridity of yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cam16cr/1272096/ To begin.Lets start with the margins.of this journallike the margins of my mind.A few wispy wordsa floating doodlebut mostly empty outskirtsGo in a little deeperbreaking the surfacejust waking thoughts and physicalhuman needsTo beginI see youI smile, to let you know I hear .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cam16cr/1265625/ It's a mess.All of it.Just a contortion.A compulsion.And it's so easy.To get swept up in the expanding.The contracting.A universe breathing.That comes to a pointA sharp focusThe rise and fall of your chestAs you sleepYou haven't shaved in daysAnd the stubble on your chin dark.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/cam16cr/1265624/