by Anthony Timperman | Feb 9, 2018 | Writing
Closing his eyes, inhaling the cool stream of air pulsing through the flat, Francis glanced over at the sheer curtains on either side of one window blown back against the interior wall, spread out symmetrically like two diaphanous wings suspended in air. It poured in...
by Anthony Timperman | Feb 9, 2018 | Poetry
There is not a yellow leaf to be found where once we stood witness with a mean screaming spirit, Play acting every role we needed just to feel alive. As corrupted youth- banded together under pretense of love just beyond a symbol of love- we found out together we...
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