This journey is filled with stars & stories. Stars of all kinds, big & small, orange & purple. Stories, too, of all kinds. Stories of my ancestors. And theirs. Stories of trees, & stones & rivers.
It's my journey back in time, which simply can't be a between us.

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Smell of pain killers & sedatives. I miss the glow of your face in the waltz tunes coiling around my senses, the sweetness of the nuditas virtualis.

I think Emma Bovary, the daydreamer, the nuditas criminalis par excellence.

Who are we to judge?
Who?

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Her teachings strewn like scent of petrichor
She shines through sunrays
Trailing frm GatesOfHeaven
Her memories float like lilac meadows
Sprouting seeds of calm
Singing lullabies through my poetic songs
W/out her spiritual presence
I wouldn't ve survived long
~
Miss U Mom

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One day, a feather arrived at her doorstep. The next day, another. And another, & another. Then, a pair of eyes arrived. A beak. Legs, & claws. Over a week, the feathers became wings. And slowly, everything came together to birth a bird. She named it Mysterie.

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The towered over wings spread wide enough to encompass the sky, protecting, gaurding, yet cutting us off from the other realms
I yearned to this pristine city
Its perfection a cage
To explore the beyond

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Glassy dreams
of rapture
unplanned and ambiguous
Spirit concierge
peels away
tapestry of reality
Envious filaments
rock spaces
between the lights
Optics burn
with desire
The sage,
he slowly writes

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Deep in the unconscious
lies an inception.
Sprouts into abstracts,
symbol and imagination.
Urges, inspiration,
inclination, propels direction.
Will to expression
and manifestation,
to arrive at formulation,


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into the burrow
of dreams
dig, dig, dig
squeeze
delve into the deep

which stories
whose faces
what places,
do you find?

live, live through it
dream or nightmare

let old desires re-#animate
let old fears dissipate

down into the burrow
deep, deep you go

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Desire a will to manifest
&
Creativity a will to form
Stand alone abstracts
perceived but not owned.
Convey by their chosen medium in conscious expressions which then are subject to judgement of right or wrong.
But in the abstract stages both are always

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An dewy morning
Slithering snakes driven into the sea
Then an excruciating sunset crosses its fingers
I tempt fate
A rose contours the shape of my thighs
Red
Dissimulation of an afternoon sacrifice
The sky dies in the convulsions of your "whys"
Why, love?

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I engaged with a Harlequin
On a weird wondrous stage
A piper scribed our lines
Our nerves he did assuage
We didn't know if his drama
Would be light or darkly tragic
But critics agreed his talent was true
Or could it just be magic?



🎨Luca Tranchino

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The River of Time
As above, so as below
The currents rage on








📷 Pixabay | KELLEPICS & illusion-X; Motionleap animations

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Story my own. Artwork created using Wombo Dream app

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It’s crept up on us, insidious. The that feeds on our decaying relationship.

Here we are, in paradise, but I can’t see or reach you. The sun only magnifies the rotting smell, & the palm trees are wafting us away.

Let’s curl up here in the sand & bury ourselves.

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Quietly, she At the edge of the cliff, where the clouds melt pain into rain, and the valley stretches below like a safe, cosy blanket. But then, in a few brushstrokes, she shifts to a chair on the plateau. Roses, coffee and worries set on the table beside her.

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Artist is a
an attitude & mindset
that bridges love
vision & expression
manifest in creation

Love is the seed
from which art germinates
One loves one creates
the creation whose sentiment is love
the object of which is

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time here has stood still.
the tree stands, the same hue of green, leaves still, as if made of origami.
the lake holds the same reflections, like a photograph.
but then, there's wind.
leaves flutter. waters ripple.
that sparrow there, still like a painting, flight.

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No one will ever know
why I left the way I did
But cutting from something precious
it’s easier done and less will be broken
if I was the one to

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Seasons come and
Bringing with them,
A little infatuation,
A little love,
A little obsession and
So much longing..
Still I can’t love anyone,
What should I do?
Forget about your looks,
Your smile, those eyes?
My first and only love..
Mon seul et unique amour..

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Up, Up ©️

and
let burdens
fall to the weigh
side—and
the on the
outskirts of town—
up, up,upside down! ✍️🏽

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