http://slow.writerscafe.org/sillyashley The original writings of author ashley en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776002431 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The first time i found you Was at a dinner party in Montauk;It was 1926The parlor reveled In the aroma of investments and chardonnay; While the foyer hummed With the din of salacious deceitHigh horses climbing a mountain of eggshells;Slender trophies seeking a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1985262/ wine and stream of consciousness on a friday night http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1667566/     http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1443135/ they left us with scattered memories of a thousand conversations, about how science was the art of reason and logic was the derivative oflove. they dispensed a hearty diatribe about how the real heroes were the ones who could defy the gifts of magic with a cunni.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1380851/ “i just wanted to create something beautiful,” you said,and as the light sparkled in your eyes when you looked back at me, i knew,in that moment, nothing else mattered.and even if i must move forward from this placewith my hands empty and my heart open,the cadence of y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1356037/ this is entirely factual and has been rigorously researched. also, it's a satire. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1329737/ if it was up to me to build this, i would start by digging deep within the trenches that beleaguer her wounded heart-- that beating, beautiful entity hanging delicately in the balance, on gossamer threads of lovers past and unmended ends. the remedy she seeks&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1316844/ In the repertoire of a pedestrianLies a still conscience;Steadfast, unyielding -- but dichotomized.Although she merely walks, herHeart racesSwiftly into the ever-flowingRiverOf her life.Sundry fragments of her part flow by:Cigarettes.After dinner mints.A left stiletto.Wrestli.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1313075/ last night, i had a dreamthat i was standing in front of a building as high as heaven. inside the building was a shattered projection of my heart, beating ferociously to the din of a thousand hushed voices. but the entrance was blocked by a sheet of glass... so i fought my wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1313060/ you are not delicate. you are a cold shot of espresso--the infernal rage of caffeine surging through my veins;the shaking of my hands as i lock my front door in the morning. you are skinny dipping at 2 am--a curse word uttered loudly in the dead of night;the thrashing of my arms and legs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1313057/ i could shake this tree with my hands if i wanted to.with the wind, chaotic and relentless, at my back,i could tear this tree to the ground.i could break branches and rip off leaves.i could everything these idle hands could do,for those of us with hearts on our sleeves..... but i cant... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1313054/ i want to write poetry on your skinwith the tips of my fingers;tracing lines of tethered versesfrom your brow, down your cheeks,and across your supple, swollen lips.i want to carve a chorus of proverbsdown your chest;a ballad echoing from your breasts,hush and pregnant with song,while you lie, outst.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1309509/ if my desire is my sinand my words, my crime,imprison me thus;i will not elude seizure.for my heart bears a truththat no man can maraud.and i will be a captive, free;free from that which binds most.still, i will not confessthese contemned outcries,the subtle dissentthat only your ears solicit.and th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sillyashley/1309506/