After all, hope is just the word grown-ups use for magic. *** I’ve only seen you once, at Grand Central Station when you smiled at me and then disappeared into the blur of people, but right then I knew that you would…
The flowers wrapped around streetlamps are dying. I can’t help but hope another tragedy will come along so I don’t have to stop admiring them. *** What you’ll never understand about me is that I am made of water, and just when you think…
Remember the moon survives, draws herself out crescent-thin, a curved woman. Untouchable, she bends around the shadow that pushes himself against her, and she waits. Remember how you waited when the nights bled their darkness out like ink, to blacken the days…
What do these texts suggest about an individual’s capacity for self-sacrifice in the face of compelling circumstances? (Polished Personal) Creative Response to “Dancer” with connections based on the imagery of darkness and light to represent confinement and freedom, the idea of a game…
Vanity controls all. Some are ashamed of being less than perfect, and their vanity compels them to hide within the dark. Some are proud of being ideally beautiful, and their vanity compels them to appear before the light. But all are controlled by…
Flurries of snow globe whites, caught by the clementine blush of streetlamps (like spotlights) in their descent to the base of towns draped in starlights. Vacant from your grace withering beneath weights of icy blues snow dances to the ground like unwanted…
The lights flashed in a pulsating alternation of red and green, blue and orange, yellow and purple. With the music pounding in my ears and the sway of sweaty, passionate bodies pressed against me, I could feel my heart beat in time with…
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