• Elizabeth Woodson

Tented ice

Updated: Dec 10, 2021

The salt dooms have overflowed and commenters will find themselves in oceans of disarray as their opinions have chisel away any genesis that could have bloomed from a calmer evening. She’s happier now as the puzzle pieces find alignment and his threats become more of a sorrow story for one than the pistol she thought. Soon no one will know his name and he will be back to the apple city where he was born. This one was not made for him.


He claims he can predict who makes it, and yet there is no destination for his ego. It all collapses soon enough and when she inquires about his motive, there is only silence to greet her. Nevertheless he has lost again. And again she will claim a victory over the currencies that use to shackle her.

She is powerful and giants will listen in on her story.


For him, humanity is star matter formed into fear. He does not exist.


She has very good moments of clarity and severe moments of withdrawal so her next journey towards a freedom only God has given those will come about in ways that are still mysterious. She knows the dagger of a fake friend, she knows who she love most in this world. She knows that her hair is curly, and eyes brown, her voice deep, and her heart pure when she walks in the light.


She know who to avoid on helpless nights where demons and allies share drinks in dark corners. She knows this is a lie. They never share a drink, for those chancing after her only like to feed her the poisons and fixate on her spirit for they are too far down the tunnel to ever see why they could not be pure.


It looks like white light to the untrained eye. It looks like me in the mirror. This will be the greatest journey of them all. And it sad to say, but he will never get the girl of his dreams.


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