Sneaking about vacant campus haunts, Barely contained text messages under pillows, Gleeful long drives and silent pitstops while Playing hooky in the shoes of a teenager, An entire decade bursting through your pores; A fervent fear of missing out congealed with heartbreak, Morphing into workweek exhaustions, martini therapies, Crooked backs in uncomfortable chairs and nippy … Continue reading Snowglobe
Author: misstinypurple
I graduated in 2016 from the University of Michigan, with an M.E in Energy Systems. Microprose is my forte: a form of writing that restricts word counts to as little as 13 words. I currently live in California, pursuing a career in clean energy, whiling away my time before I can become a full-time storyteller. Some of my favourite things are walking on crunchy leaves, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, fluffy puppies, boba tea, murder mysteries and conversing with captivating humans.
A wise woman once taught me: to laugh often and much, to win the affection of intelligent people, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better-- that is to have succeeded in life.
Cinnamon, Clove, and Magnolias
When whispers from the inherited gramophone Sing sweeter than the cacophony of drinks in shakers, When the week’s exhaustion seeks respite In servings of boxed wine instead of tailored martinis, When ancient TV reruns nudge your heart to Leap higher than a cue ball over felt, When the crinkled linen inside your elbows no longer … Continue reading Cinnamon, Clove, and Magnolias
Time
Whispers under patchwork quilts, Linked arms under twirling pink umbrellas, Fresh coffees set down beside keyboards at dusk, Blankets wrapped over tense shoulders. On some days they seem a distant timeline, On others just beyond the next threshold. Another season, another ‘morrow, Seldom a triumph cataloged in a photo album, Often a fizzle souring into … Continue reading Time
The Best
Far from a box of chocolates, Life resembles a Jenga tower Of carefully crafted experiences Designed by a revolving door of opponents Sliding, pecking, shimmying, tugging, Some presenting challenging moves, Others merely provoking in nature, Before that inevitable destabilising affair That leaves you questioning your Beliefs, your steadfast loyalty, your Basic instincts; and yet, there’s … Continue reading The Best
White Jasmines
On some days, her vessel feels akin to A tub of ice cream that’s been hollowed Out of cheeriness, a void borne of acerbic Text exchanges, unyielding lovers, Debilitating familial obligations, Signed legal dramas and Cremated dreams. On others, it’s scraped clean by Favourite t-shirts unravelling, Overshot highway exits, spilled coffee, Returned packages, and wilted … Continue reading White Jasmines
Waterfall
It’s in the way your finger traces the contours behind my knee In your whispered observations amidst a crowd In the purposeful squeeze of my feet at the climax of a long day In the gentle brush of my back as you pass me by In the crook of your arm around the nape of … Continue reading Waterfall
Imprint
They crossed paths over a weekend Up in the hills — he was tracking the stars, While she planted seedlings in a clearing. Two parts home, one part mystery, and Half a worldview distant, he intrigued her. The higher they climbed, the brighter The stars, the taller her saplings. The faster They ran, the horizons … Continue reading Imprint
The Fork in the Road
Frost clings to the redwoods, Crunch lies bare on the winter floor The winding paths all look alike despite The compass you inherited from an elder. Up ahead is the fabled fork in the road, Seek this way and you’ll find The vista point atop the steepest climb, Back the other is the lakeshore Along … Continue reading The Fork in the Road
Sage
Emerging the dirt an evergreen shrub Surrounded by a sea of crimson roses, Yearning for sunshine and arid wastelands As the other receives tenderness and irrigation Every graft produces another bud while A rebuke withers a petal off the sage, Until a basketful of potpourri lay in its stead Servicing a coffee table in its … Continue reading Sage
Broken Bells
It’s a rare and sunny December Saturday; The fog has thawed off the hills, The birds trill to my rhythmic acts of labour. You stroll past, to-go cup in hand, Slowing to a halt as I shovel. I shovel, I shovel, I shovel: dismantling my compulsion to keep peace with white lies. I shovel: abandoning … Continue reading Broken Bells
ThePurpleFenix 