http://slow.writerscafe.org/k_anastasia The original writings of author Kimberly Anastasia en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776002072 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 do you believe in the magic of the universeand the way the trees talk when the wind holds them,how the stars close their eyes when the sun wakes up,when fate decided that you and I would exist at the very same moment?or do I have to ask the night sky to spell it out for you,in hopes that you might f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/k_anastasia/2766436/ undress the flesh from my bones and think about how pretty I look when I'm exposed,how I look like a freshly stretched canvas when my scars are up on a hanger.don't tell me that my eyes look prettier on a tray as your centerpiece, like glass ornaments you picked up at the thrift because you found be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/k_anastasia/2142087/ sometimes I think of you when I'm entwined in the vines that grow in my head,when they spill from the garden in which they were sownand strangle me with the memories of you that have rooted so deeply.over time I've come to find that a potted plant is easy to crack when it's made of paper,with no she.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/k_anastasia/2070086/ smog lingered above the ground,waves crashed into the walls,two white liars stood a sea apart.a hand held a torchat the end of the bridgeand the piers went up in flames.the debris fell into the water,and as I looked at you amidst the smokeI saw nothing more than a ghost. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/k_anastasia/2010534/ he thought he had smothered my fire,but there was gasoline on his tongue and embers in his fist.still, he was too dim to seethat I am a matchand hate is kerosene. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/k_anastasia/2008506/ petals in a white room;pale hues dripping from stems,falling to the floor with grace,landing only with a soft whisper.on the sill I linger,exhaling smoke onto the panes.the sky and I, we cry in unison,and the room grows bitter with the dread of death.and as I wither,the flower wilts.if decay is a be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/k_anastasia/1980328/ flames danced around the room,painting silhouettes on the wall.a masquerade of phantoms chantverses of solace to the crowded corridor.the deafening cry of the stringsparading the broken puppetsis now only a far call in my dreams,haunting my memories like a broken record.and it calls me;the bodies on.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/k_anastasia/1975975/ the words dripped from their fingertipsand froze before they hit the ground,shattering into bitter shards that pierced my skin.the blood seeped from my veins and into the snow,crimson flakes painted a pattern like fire onto the ground.and I walked away, hearing ghosts call my name from a distance.an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/k_anastasia/1974155/