<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Nicole | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Coley</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Nicole</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776096756</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>Purity</title>
			<description>Take my hand, walk in armsTo a place of secrecy, polite charmsAnd childish affection, replaceA world of failed redemptions withFresh beginnings, promise to eraseThe bigotries of cinematic lovers,Give me reason to share their spaces andMelt in the cauldron of romantic endeavors&amp;hellip;..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Coley/206139/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Someone to Remind Me</title>
			<description>If there were someone to remind meOf the pleasure of feeling cherished,To assure me that love is fate,That science and reasoning promote chemistry,And there's someone destined to createA fire deep inside, burning to the edges,Curling the pages that define me,Jumping to the conclusion, ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Coley/203448/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Love, Rationality, Simplicity</title>
			<description>I thought that love had flownTo forbidden triangles and Shrouded tropics, aside fromReality and all that is known,Beyond the grasp of loving printsAnd what the fairy tales have shownTo be promised&amp;hellip;&amp;nbsp;(However-)&amp;nbsp;Like the fancy curls of calligraphyAnd the deeply em..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Coley/203446/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Playroom Mirrors, Lover's Stairs</title>
			<description>There used to be a life behindPlayroom mirrors,Like light childhood secretsHidden beneath the stairs,Where we would meet, A time and place reserved,Sacred.. yet distilled by youth,An awkward age played out in streetsWhere apathy was glory, romance-A thing of the future, not to dwel..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Coley/203440/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>