The gifts we receive,
Organ donors are in town,
Life’s on holiday.
How does it work?
This is a unique take on this challenge. I like it a lot. I'm Bill. ⚡💙⚡
More stories from George Zelinski and writers in Poets and other communities.
The old cat chatters— Filthy rats—scramble in fear, Hear kittens meow…..
By George Zelinski5 months ago in Poets
My feet sink into the wet sand as the tide flushes by, covering everything in disappearing crystals of warm ocean. I’m running, I think, and the spray clings to my ankles, obscuring my legs from the lens.
By Maura Bernstein3 days ago in Poets
In vertigo emotions and scars for eyes and plutonium bones and tones of my molten home. To yearn to burn our faces and rewrite our genetic codes.
By Hydelic 3 days ago in Poets
Silhouettes of the female form were given flesh and bone. Silken skin glistened under the spotlight. Dry ice rose around our Icons as they danced atop their podiums in the Square. Heralded for their beauty, their movements were slight, powerful, and sensual.
By Paul Stewart3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This is a unique take on this challenge. I like it a lot. I'm Bill. ⚡💙⚡