1. Tuck me close at times like these, my child, my child, my child. Enclosurecreeps,it
By Lori Palmer-Tulley5 months ago in Poets
sleet caught in lashes - herons glide, slick through mirrors upside-down and free.
By Lori Palmer-Tulley3 years ago in Poets
Whilst some describe writing as a form of escapism or temporary relief from life’s noise, I’ve found practicing daily gratitude through journaling to declutter my mind and connect me to the simple beauties of every day.
By Lori Palmer-Tulley4 years ago in Motivation
We are filthy. We have stubborn blood soaked into our palms’ readings we are filthy. We have our wounds stung by the tangerine’s juice and sealed shut
By Lori Palmer-Tulley5 years ago in Poets
