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Four times a day,
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get the words out.
Write in any genre in
300 words or less.
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A butterfly takes flight
in a lonely meadow.
It is just before dusk and the sky
is riveted in violet.
Perhaps, this is its last journey.
They christened him Wing because he had just one. The other Monarchs had majestic wings orange as the Autumn leaves and thinner than any sail, wings that worked together precisely. "As God intended," an old female said.
You flutter about tangled in my thoughts
no matter what I'm thinking
you infiltrate my mind, even now,
it's not like it's on purpose
my thoughts aren't that easily controlled
they have a mind of their own (more)