http://slow.writerscafe.org/sv_rincon The original writings of author Sara Rincon en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776121366 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 1)Amber,  reflecting light like flame,   twisted in awkward angles.  red and red and red and orange.  Panic when she tells you she loves him.2)You beg back the body  you asked her to break  thought maybe,  something transformative would happen.3) But she'll ke.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1385953/ Absolve, this voyeur'ssins are watching.Wiped mud from blind eyes,with consecrated spit.Hand over rosaries of bone.Give flasks of blessed venom.Alter boys weep,but not for god.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1385947/ When you ask me how I am,and I say  Been Betteryou smile, and sayGood.I don't mean I am better.Past tense.Been. I have been better. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1385946/ Found some old writings, decided to clean them up. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1385943/ Sink:But, pressure.What if my ears pop and bleed? What if my veins collapse in on themselves What if my lungs burn, and my mind goes numb What if I can't make it  to rock bottom? You know,  I was just not built  for  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1385942/ I want to carvemy two great lovesintogreat thighsThe kit should take the leftbecause he did.Leave, that is.And she,rootbound on the rightwaters herselfwith our tears.I try to takeher bark, his bite,neither is naturally appropriated. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1358154/ Another working list of things I'll never get to tell you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1333740/ I have to remind myselfthatmy arm around yourshouldersdid not countas a foundation.My hands,reachingeach time we see eachotherare not meant topull you fromthe rubble.These thoughts come as aftershocks. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1324817/ The only smooth edges I ownare a big round waistand the waves in my hair.The rest isclipped claws,ragged as my skin is cratered.Teeth brokenfrom gnawing bonesstronger than my own.I can't even claim the vortexof my eyesand the too soft glint in obsidian pupils.I'm all .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1318351/ He has:Vallied handscalluses raised high like mountainsnail beds like lakes.curved slivers of glass.He works. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1277572/ A Working List of Things I'll Never Get to Tell You http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1277564/ Singingcinquains trip overtongue dancing, tooth hoppingsyllables. Catch glass in cratersand rasp. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1210411/ I beatyour heart in twoFrenzied pulp, plump red seedspomegranate paste is god's sweet nectar.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1210410/ Honest,I cowered backFrom splinter armed embraces.Shrunk down to shrapnel and dug in.I Lied. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1198918/ Cinquain http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1198746/ A poem for my father -- (still in drafting stages.) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1115454/ I  keep a cigarette in the bottom of a zip-up gator’s                                plush stomach.A singular stress reliever in a toy.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1115440/ First of the "friends" poems I intend to write, about the friends I've made and lost. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1009271/ - http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/1009270/ Treesleave dyed gold leavesupon thieved lawns.The grieving spinfleshy skin andfeel thin fruit burst into rancid,buttery, waste. Feelwrinkled bark andraised veins fan outfrom tanned twigs. Eachsmall prayer teachesbeseeching children .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/839449/ A Terzanell. (Can anyone tell I'm really enjoying learning these forms?) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/819723/ A Roundel. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/818065/ Ruminating on the Ginkgo tree, further exploration of Yadu. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/817199/ The girl,speaks in cinquains.Her secrets tumble outin glares, carefully chosen wordsand sighs. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/817028/ A poem in the Yadu format. A chase. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/sv_rincon/816978/