a wisp gifts me time
to tender wells meeting mine
a floating feather
our cores ripped out by fate’s hand
rippling phantom could haves
About the Creator
Michele Nampalli
This space is breath for my sensitivity. The poems come fully formed. I've known for quite some time now that my art is about receiving more than creation...its the most natural way I know to process my inner world. It started when I was 7.
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Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This reads like some pretty abstract stuff. It makes me think of those moments when you're reflecting on what could've been, like a "rippling phantom" of possibilities.