Sometimes there isn't a title for a story. The words just flow like the sound of a brook in a wood no one knows of, until an author describes how the shift of the gentle breeze allows soft rays to caress the water to life. Then the sounds of the woods come to life before … Continue reading Sometimes There Isn’t A Title For A Story
memory
Curve
A/N: So this is probably from 2006-2007. Again another unfinished poem...I need water...*ahem* The feel of velvet skin etches its way into memory, already overloaded with sounds of her moans, the taste of salt that beads along her neck and the sight of her head thrown back, panting. The beat of her heart pounding against … Continue reading Curve
Violin Lullaby
It is the clinking.... and the soft violin in the back that reminds me why I'm drinking alone. The soft hallelujah of distance voices and I can't tell if I spilled my drink or if I'm crying. Tell me my friend as my fingers move over the keys while the piano catches dust in the … Continue reading Violin Lullaby
The First One
Tomorrow is Father's day, and although I had 15 years, give or take, of Father's days before you drove into our lives, this is the first one, in almost 10, without you. I never paid much attention to these days before. I had this naivety about them that I now resent because I brushed them … Continue reading The First One
Faith Taryn Davies 