Vixie's stories

  The ruby heart   The ruby heart, it glows, it breathes, knows itself yet truly no one else. It lives within. It sings a song sometimes, on...

  I wrote some little poems for JD Mader’s weekend writing exercise , 2minutesgo , in the morning on Sunday, while waiting for my dinner to ...

  Glow   We beat high, beat low, drum the sacred earth with dry feet, sweep dust into a prism of heat, whip pure motion into power, step ins...

Drop   It’s a fall of water, musical notes, first floating, then thick, heavy, repetitive, too out of tune. A repeat that will not fade out....

  Solace   Morning is as evening was, shutters clamped, the blue wrestles in, motions in the egg-yolk sun full-stamped with sweeps of white,...

  Prompt: write a poem of at least 10 lines in which each line begins with the same word. This technique of beginning multiple lines with th...

  The word is as it was, as it always did appear, as it should, as a filler, as a kind of maybe, and so we choose how we say it, think it, s...

    They stand in line, ushered in by the west wind,   cards majestic without pose, neither Jack nor Queen nor King,   pegged to split this ...

  Recoil in sheets and pillows, blankets of driven snow, a smothering of words.   The gap widens to a chasm no bridge can traverse, just a c...

  I open my hands to take yours. You open your hands to take mine. This lack of space devours. No time outside of travel, magic without a si...