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Daily Lit Deviations for February 4th, 2013
We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Deviations!
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Please comment and the features and congratulate the artists!
For all of the featured artists: If you receive a DD for one
of your pieces featured by DLD please note LiliWrites.
We will include you and your piece in a special recognition news article.
Suggested by: intricately-ordinary
Featured by: SilverInkblot
i want you like no one else shouldi want you.
and those words purge
from my lips
like fluorescent moonbeams.
are darker than they seem
and something was different
in the way you
it's been a year or so
but the hymns of the air
and my tank top
is hinging onto your
but i don't know
if the melody is on
and ash is spilling
from your lips
even though your
told you smoking is
a breeding ground for
will your skeleton hands
i want you like no one else should by Unseen-reality
Suggester: "A scary new take on overpowering love.
This writer takes on the dreaded cliche in an unbelievable
new way that will make you stop and think about the ways
your own heart pounds."
Featured by: LadyofGaerdon
Quake the EarthYou were
from the rust-rim
in quick sips and swallowed stars,
like those remembered
at the bottom of the glass.
from the orogeny
of your subduction,
of your skin sliding to a fit
and the tremors we could make.
Quake the Earth by nawkaman
Unique, vivid imagery and resonant
metaphor create an enchanting read.
Suggested by alapip
Featured by xlntwtch
Smoke and Mirrors: Law EnforcementSoft murmurs.
"Are you sleeping?"
She opens her eyes, suddenly aware that he's right. As she shuffles around in her chair, trying to find comfort again, the police captain comes into focus from across the table.
'Wake up," he barks.
"I'm awake." Irritation stains her voice.
"Josephine Sawyer, I've been captain of the London police for sixteen years. And god dammit, I have never seen someone fall asleep while being interrogated before." He leans back in his chair and lights a cigarette.
She taps her fingernails against the back of her chair, which is all she can reach while handcuffed like she is. "I think you're actually less intimidating in reality than you imagine yourself to be. Got an extra smoke?"
"Shut up," the captain orders. There's a beat of silence. She stares at him while he thumbs through a few papers. He stops and squints at one of them. "Did you sleep through your mug shot, too?"
He gives an exasp
Smoke and Mirrors: Law Enforcement by dreamylittlethings
Suggester says: Here's excellent dialog
and a surprise ending for you. I agree.
Featured by doodlerTM
we are all waiting to be found.August 17, 2012
I met a girl five years ago on a train to Paris and she told me she was running away. I asked her why, and she said she didn't know why—just that she had lots of things in her life that would justify her escape.
She held a cup of coffee in her left hand and periodically, she'd inhale the steady steam and sigh. I think she caught me staring at her once when her nostrils were on the plastic lid, so she explained that the smell of caffeine kept her heartstrings alive.
Her eyes were forever open, as if she never stopped to blink because she was afraid she'd miss something, and the sun sat on her eyelashes like birds on a wire because she told me she didn't know how to cry.
She had a habit of dropping things, and the third time she stooped below the table to pick something up, she screamed and hit her turquoise beret against the desk and spilled the sugar out of my tea. She apologized like a little kid, with her bottom lip sticking out ever so slightly, and said
we are all waiting to be found by momo-madness
A story that shows the coincidences of life and
how deeply connections can be made only to be cut short.
Featured by lombregrise
L'Invocation du soirDouce succube,
Viens donc à moi ;
Le drap est rude,
Mon lit est froid.
Ce sommeil triste,
Trace une piste
Vers tes baisers.
Je suis hôtesse,
Offrant ses fesses
Mais pas pour rien.
À mon service
Sera ton âme
Si mes doux vices
Tu me réclames.
Pour toi diablesse
Dirai ta messe
En pieux curé,
Mais ne me laisse
Pas un instant
Que m'en assure,
Et je te joins.
Voici le pacte
Que je te vends,
Prends en donc acte
Avec ton sang.
L'invocation du soir by Alraghan
L'invocation du soir ("The night's invocation") tell us the
story about a pact between a succubus and a magician.
Well paced (en vers tétrasyllabiques), the story lead us,
like in a medieval story, to the expected end... This poetry is a
part from Alraghan project : 100 stories of sorcery.
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Prepared by: SilverInkblot