Who had the nerve to cozy up to perfection, let alone ask it to dance?
Who had the nerve to cozy up to perfection, let alone ask it to dance?
Eternity must be more like radio than TV.
A man angles a pizza to his hip, a small boy in the crook of his arm.
She’s the desperado girl in all her ingenious disguises.
The fortitude flickers minutely, but it never leaves her face
Lady Luck hasn’t made house calls since the robber barons tore the levy down.
Here’s a broad who plays you to the marrow of your bones.
This young man is on a mission.
He was an amazement of fitness poised for flight.
There is whimsy in perception.