Mar. 29th, 2011

wolven7: (The Very Devil)
A discrete tremble of the hand and
a particular cast of the mouth:
that's how they knew each other.
There, in mind, a certain perception of
light and shadow—a chiaroscuro mindset,
like dazzle camouflage, all
broken transmissions and misfiring synapses.
Their forced exterior calm couldn't reflect
the interior turmoil, the complete lack of
all filters or controls.
They weren't broken.
They simply didn't have these things,
didn't have the facility for the deceptive
dance and sway of language, and so
they made do.
They understood each other
as soon as they saw each other,
and they fell into an easy amity, removing
the need for clumsy words, faulty
explanations of meaning, or awkward
pauses.
There was a limitlessness
in their effortless communication,
a feeling of transcendence which made
all onlookers fall slowly silent, struck
by reverence for the sacred, there, on display:
They expressed.
©Damien Williams. All Rights.
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This poem was based on [livejournal.com profile] amberite's prompts.

That's everyone. I'm not completely pleased with every one of these pieces, but that's not what this was about. It was about writing, consistently, fiction and poetry, and it was meant to be a piece per day, but that didn't always happen. Oh well. I wrote. I have been writing. And I will continue to be writing.

All of these pieces can be found, here: http://wolven.livejournal.com/tag/thinking%20about%20writing

Good night.

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