We sneaked into an old  abandoned gym   alone with the dusty equipments surrounded by Grey floor, cream walls and rustic windows   I was on the bench press when I saw your face upside down   you helped me lift a heavy iron barbell…

Take me back back in time to the place  I once called my playground. The air tasted of salt and summer. The wind continuously blew as the waves greeted the shoreline. …and it always felt like the waves were playing catch up with me. Almost…

by willjxn I will never forget how they changed my life— Cliffs of salmon-pink sandstone Lent their broken skins to make homes for; Sons, Daughters, Parents, Grandparents. Long gone, yet— I could hear children’s  laughter clattering off the walls of this ancient place.   My…

A school trip becomes an escape to get lost in my favorite place Crispy leaves crunching under foot Birds fly over head that like to avoid the city The chill in the air is perfect for the apple picking season The scent of the cider…

Hour Four: Magic Windows by willjxn on a wall in every room, windows where we look to groom. magic windows to our view— little Miss, and Grandpa too.   magic windows to our view— see the people me and you. see them mimic everything— every…

Smile wide, shoulders straight, stand tall, hands on your hips, chin high.  gaze low. Walk like you have everything going for you  right here in this moment, All eyes on you. Sit with your legs folded, nod politely, speak only when spoken to, tie your…

https://au.pinterest.com/pin/416653403004856668/ Prompt #2 Your beauty, broken down nakedness became the garment clothing your skin. You didn’t cower in your shadow you came into the light revealing soul and truth. Vulnerability is your armour now. You stand straight and tall and you refused to succumb to…

  shut up and dance!   You, there! You, there, with your belly full of stars: can you see the path, the link, the umbilical cord between you and me made of lightning bugs – yellow flies – pieces of stars shattered by baby Thunderbirds…

More of the same fields rise when driving past. Skim over the ancient junk piles, measures of time and waste from the rural professor, the ubiquitous poverty of ideas about how to clean this abandonment and romance. Romance is not actually happening here or anywhere….