A swingful of Saturday

#vss She translated love.He edited it.They craved love but often mistook it.He hammered love to the wall.She stared at it for hours,puzzled.

#vss It is a fact she worshipped her nose.It is a fact that she built herself a house in the shape of it and sneezed away unwanted visitors

#vss Music scared him.Its texture was wrong.He couldnt see it,taste it or touch it.It cast a spell but he was immune.Only he heard the truth

#vss He lubricated his days with chunks of juicy prose.At night,he'd feast on dry scraps of poetry,mixing syllables with fresh spring rain.

#vss She was his α and he was her Ω. They decided to compromise over a slice of cherry π.

#vss Her nostrils hovered across the land, breathing in love & hate, cool silence & heated words. He looked up to see her face, darkening.

#vss She broke his stories in pieces. Reading became like leaping across a river of words. His writing whirlpooled into rafts of paragraphs.

#vss He carried his child to the chair. She was sleeping & he kissed her gently. That night,he would leave. And she would forget him,in time

#vss Sir Mandeville made sure tweets were 140 characters long. He had seen the world beyond Twitter, full of monsters, enchantments & lies.