White gossamer wings flapping like a thousand heartbeats, softly, softly, climbing the skyward streams. Houses with their lights left on call me; draw me. I feel like pressing my face, eyes dark and large, against the windowpanes and letting the radiance course through my veins. Some are sleeping; some are speaking in soft voices, televisions’
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I have always held a deep fascination with moths and also felt a resonance with them.
The line you like I changed last minute (I had it as "I hear it calling me") and I wasn't sure about it - so I'm happy to hear it worked for you!
Thank you very much, Cara. :)
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wow. just wow.
beautiful piece.
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I like these lines-
"Inside, my soul is shimmering like a thousand beacons, and I am more beautiful than the daytime’s butterfly."
And
"There is a burning, deeper, stronger than physical fire. And in the last moments, she breaks into a thousand pieces, ash-flakes upon the night wind; she glows more brilliant than the sun."
I love your use of words, it makes your writing wonderful.
:)
AJ
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Well structured to support the transition of the images.
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Thank you Neil.
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