http://slow.writerscafe.org/mythophobia55 The original writings of author Power Knows the Truth Already en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775976106 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Dedicated to Emmett Till, Kevin Richardson, Raymond Santana, Antron McCray, Yusef Salaam, and Korey Wise. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2776317/ I couldn't believe you wanted to go on a walk with me. Couples went on walks. Girls who rolled their skirts, their knee socks falling down.You wanted to go on a walk with me. The leaves were burnt under the setting autumn sun, and no one was around. We sa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2172690/ How did it take a lockdown of all out bodiesto know we're not wholewhen we are alone. We become whole together, threads pulled from ourselvesand woven as one. Some thread being more fussyand stiff, hard to weave. And I'm no masterat weaving things by myself. Others, the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2172689/ They say my fire will die down as I grow older. They say the flames that make ash of my insides are a symptom of my youth. How sad. How grim that they have no drive or will to keep their flames alive, burning to illuminate all the wrongs they no longer wish to see. I wish fo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2115881/ We had tequila shots in Alicante. It had been a year since I saw youand it's been many since. I always blushed and smiled at the way you looked at meas if you didn't need to blinkas if everything I touched, everything I saidwas brilliant. You didn't like tequila or stick club dan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2115214/ In springmill villages, I could make my way anywhereon the block with my eyes closed. I knew where the divets in the sidewalk would catch my bike tire. I knew the shortcuts that actually took longer. I knew exactly how long it would take me to run from the flower house back homeo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2115097/ I have become at peace with whathappens to melike a corn stalk in the wind. No. Like the wind itself. I can change temperature or directionbut sometimes it just blows.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2115093/ When you told me I was not enough, I ran into the arms and legsof every manwho could fake I was. When I realised they had nothing to give me, I tookand filled my bagwith worn out sheets and stories that lose their youthfaster than I can tell them. I drank every dro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2115091/ I heard you say how hard it is for men these daysbeing accused of sexual assault. The words struck me in my scars - the ones that don't know what hard is like. I pressed my thighs togetherthick with heat,palms stacked on my gut. His talent, his successis so valuable - s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2104907/ I am a descendant of motherswith thick skin and locked lips.Their shields helped them survivebut made no warriors.They saved themselves,and I'm glad for it. Yet, I refuse to step into this heirloombullet-proof vestthat hides my breastsand keeps me quiet.My gratitude for this inheritance is expr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2104905/ /New Zealand/I didn't know what a tulip tree was until I left Indiana. Apparently, there was one at the neighbourhood park. It bloomed in May and dropped petals by the swings come June. I assumed it would have pink and purple and red flowers, but they were just a pale yellow with.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2098392/ I'll write you. When I'm gone -- far gonebeyond the curve of the horizon, I'll write you into existenceherewhere sails set into the sunset glaze. Not as you werebut as I saw youand I will writewithout hope nor delusion of what I saw you to be, to me. I made you out of w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2094513/ The sun was five minutes over the horizon, and you walked back to the housetwirling three frangipanis in your hand. A sunrise walk. Your favourite flower. My favourite flower. You sat at the table across from meand placed two of the blooms next to our worknot sure what to do.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2091385/ I think my flower in pohutukawa -red with long petals. I bloom much more often than annual Christmas flower,but my roots are deep and strong. I can weather the sea spray and tropical winds. I can drink with the tides andbe patient when the rain forgets to fall. On brigh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mythophobia55/2091382/