DancingDragon

I know a girl who wants to cut her hair short (or at least shorter than it is) and dye it blue and purple like the twilit sky – but she keeps that curly mane long and brown, so that she can keep working. That’s the same reason her skin is as clear as un-inked parchment, despite the collection she keeps of tattoos she wants but cannot have. I know a girl who grew up hungry and so she adores food. All of it, everything from the sizzle of roasting chicken to the drizzle of melting chocolate, fresh bread and old cheese, ripe avocadoes and bananas still tinged with green. But she doesn’t always remember to eat enough, and someti

I was born to be A child of the woodlands With eagle eyes and a magpie heart Torn silk and muddy feet Scratches on my hands and sticks in my hair Singing like a river Polishing stones with my voice With a garland of stars Upon my brow And the scent of roses at my wrists I know the touch of the trees By the feel of their bark Rough black ash and papery white birch Scuffing beneath my palms I was not made For your bright city lights Your hard streets with corners that cut so sharp Metal that grinds and glass that shatters Like broken promises Heartsore and homesick I do not belong there I know it for truth In my magpie heart The city shines Bu

When I was a child, my father spoke of Lethe, his friend, who was a night-dark dragon. She lived beyond the curve of the moon, and sometimes, when the winds were just right, and the clouds not too thick overhead, she would visit, and bear him up into the air on her back. He told me of the adventures they shared, and all the wonders they had seen. A beach where it was always evening, awash with the silvery light of the cosmos, where every grain of sand was the seed of a tiny, perfect pearl. A lush meadow where faeries gathered for meetings on toadstools, and held out their tiny, twiggy limbs to catch the falling drops of rain. Forests that wer

“He only pushed you because he likes you!” “Pulling your hair means he thinks you’re cute!” “Boys always tease the girls that they love!” They tell her these things, her family, her friends, her teachers. They brush the tears from her stinging red cheeks, and tell her that big girls do not cry. They tell her she is wanted, and that makes her lucky. How many girls wish they could be like her… They laugh and tell her not to worry. Stop complaining. Don’t be so difficult. Years later, her cheeks are covered in stinging bruises and a thin veneer of cover-up, and no one ever sees her cry.

Do you remember when I told you what prairie oysters were? You, so suburban, were so proud that you had done something "down home and country", that you had actually eaten some, and I, the rural hick, had not. Well, I couldn't let you go on living in ignorance, so I told you what it was you had so eagerly eaten, once upon a time ago. I thought you would be sick, right then and there on the sidewalk. Maybe that's why you don't talk to me anymore. Do you remember the way we danced under the autumn moon, careless and free? The world was calm and perfect and totally ours. We sang and danced, and oh, how we laughed... You held my hand and wanted

You told him that you wanted someone who would love you, for you. No pomp, no circumstance, just love, Complete and absolute. Someone romantic, but not cheesy. Someone who was funny, smart, polite and kind. You said it wouldn't hurt if he was good-looking, either, and somewhere there was mention of nine inches... You both laughed, and moved onto other topics. You told him that you wanted someone who would trust you, someone you could put your trust in, too. Someone who would laugh when you laughed, and comfort you when you cried. Someone who would dance with you, even without music. Someone to hold your hand, kiss your neck, and rub

After Albert almost aborted admirably But before Brian begot boysenberries Caroling Carlos' cunningly constructed combustibles Dubiously drenched Diana's double-dunked doughnuts "Enough!" exhausted Edward expounded Forgetting Frederic's fabled fussy ferrets Gripping Gregory's gregariously grouped grapes Harried Harold hobbled hopelessly homeward Inviting Ian's infuriating in-law inside Joshing Jared's joyfully jeering Jabberwock jive Knew Knighten knitted kneeling knights Leaving Laura's limply lagging lateral line Modestly mending Maggies' magnificent mauve mittens Nothing negated Neville's nasty neurosis nor Obviously organize

Despite the warm breeze flowing through the Temple, Shalendri shivered, gooseflesh pressing against the raw silk of her Acolyte's robe. Her bare feet whispered along the polished marble floors, each step punctuated by the multitude of silver bangles adorning each of her ankles. Similar bangles covered her arms from wrist to elbow, clattering with every motion the young woman made. In her hair, tiny bells – also wrought from silver – chimed, hidden in her dark tresses amidst other trinkets and talismans. An ox here, a crane there, a blooming lotus half-concealed behind one ear, tinkling among so many of its fellows. Normally, she wo

Advice to a Younger Me I know you're lonely. He's coming. Take that risk. He's worth it. They'll say drop him. Ignore them. He'll hurt you, and hate himself. He makes up for it later. Dating him will destroy your friendship. It wasn't a good friendship anyway. She isn't worth the lost sleep. Letting go will be easy. Get to know your classmates better. Don't go out to dance clubs. There's no sign coming. Just go. Greyhound is lame. Carpool with Thomas. You cannot drink that many shots. Jaeger is bad for you, dammit. Coffee and beer aren't all bad. Buy more books. Watch more movies. Four sleepless nights is pushing it. Migrai

It was a grisly sight, but then again, battlefields always were. They hadn't meant to stumble upon the scene, but their path was hardly a well-mapped route, and once noticed, it was hard to miss, and impossible to just keep walking. Damp earth had been churned up all around them in viciously curving furrows, lines of diction that told a grim story in sharp detail. Two unicorn stallions, locked and killed in mortal combat. Whether their battle had been over territory, food, a mate, it was impossible to say, but it was now obvious it had not gone well for either party. Old cuts and scars, the blood that had painted them long gone dry, tattooed