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		<title>Havefangswilltravel | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/Fangs</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Havefangswilltravel</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Dilated Pupil: Porous Human</title>
			<description>I write a lot about the wanting to belong, the heartache of losing what we love, and the depravity of man. This time I thought I'd take all those things and lump them into one, juicy package. Enjoy!
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Fangs/1129405/</link>
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			<title>Oh God, Oh God</title>
			<description>I don&amp;rsquo;t want to be left behindAll these smiles are beginning to drift beyond my reachOh God, don&amp;rsquo;t let me fade into distanceDon&amp;rsquo;t confine me to the background of a photographHappiness is a fleeting thoughtBut it helps us fall away, only to come backWhen the time is right, in fullne..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Fangs/1126138/</link>
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			<title>365 is Golden</title>
			<description>Feel the tensionThese taxidermies come alive when our backs are turnedRevisions made to life and gestureTheir stance is quite poeticThose mummies make me shudderTo the dust, we will return, but it doesn&amp;rsquo;t stop my skin from crawlingThe sardonic grin from the skulls across the wayIt knows my fea..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Fangs/1126132/</link>
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			<title>Mirror, Mirror</title>
			<description>This a fond memory&amp;nbsp;I pray it&amp;rsquo;s legibleIt&amp;rsquo;s hard to write on a diary that&amp;rsquo;s soaked with bloodThese damn seasons stabbed me in the backSlapped in the face with frigid wind gustsAnd warmed my heart with mild mid-60s&amp;nbsp;Fahrenheit, of course&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;I&amp;rsquo;ve never had a heroWell..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Fangs/1126086/</link>
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			<title>Mechanical Savior</title>
			<description>This I&amp;rsquo;m speaking to youI&amp;rsquo;ve not caged any regretMy silence has been jadedBut, I will not keep quietThe chilling voice of the grave whispers to meI know not whenBut you, with your bartender&amp;rsquo;s patienceConsiders my plight of mortality&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;&quot;This sacred palace of solaceThis gri..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Fangs/1126082/</link>
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			<title>Stutter-step, shutterbug, slaughterhouses</title>
			<description>I see life through crystalline slaughterhousesMy flightless life is confined to snapshots of buzzing pinwheelsThis lonely dance floor extends its arms to me,The dance of the dead sways and stirs to the blues music echoes from 6 feet above&amp;#2013266048;&quot;&amp;#2013266048;&quot;&amp;#2013266048;&quot;&amp;#2013266048;&quot;&amp;#2013..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Fangs/1126080/</link>
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