Their speech in his ears, #remnants of words in his mouth. And the day slipped past. He thought: if I had a sound now, I wouldn't be so empty in this busy street. All I have are letters, and it's hard to make out the dots. #vss365

The flea market is the sea. A brain #jump, but hear me out. It all ends up there, and if not it, then its reflection. See. I understand things. In the sea, all things are near. I am sorry I lived on land for so long.#vss365

Cockroaches in the bath and #angels in the balcony, and the hot dust on the parked cars. Dark stairways where cats stalk out stray griefs. Prop up the table with an ashtray, prep the fan with a wire. Until new ghosts move in and with careful fingers remake everything. #vss365

But then they found that #wormhole language deactivated some of the effects of space travel. How they laboured. Vowels came out distorted, consonants twisted their muscles. But in the tired silences, a sound. Deep, shiny, like the blue earth in a dark well. #vss365

#Contrarian words huddle in the wardrobe. Few people see them: small kids forced to learn foreign languages, and big people who can't focus at work. They want to mean not what they mean. Not fair. Too hard too awkward, too uptight, oh my unlost eymological brethern. #vss365

A rare hot day, and all the trees look wiser. My kitchen is roomier and full of imagined houses. Street vendors, magicians and #deviant thoughts show up. At the sea I pick up an old stone with a hundred faces. To counsel me words when it gets cold again. #vss365

I'm to get the message from the #savant. I don't know what he looks like, so I chat up men with beards. Unless he keeps wisdom elsewhere. I don't know what the message is either. I try them all with bad jokes. I forget who gave me the mission. Everything depends on it? #vss365

Some #skirmish or other, but the spirits were grumpy and less giant. This made for a tough hike. Without their help, the forest needed to be thoroughly imagined with nearly every step. We used machetes. I worried I'd lose him or fail to imagine a bridge across the swamp. #vss365

My ancestors were town worriers. At the day's end they got offerings (eggs and pale onions). How the sky shook, how the earth crackled. Oh their fingernails. Oh their souls. But the town was calm. Give me now a town to save, onions to eat, turn a curse to a gift. #LossLit

Make a #taffeta net with golden hooks. Catch some air, herds and droves of it. Enough to breathe, a bit to spread out the carpet. Too long underground. Too long hid in lamps and dusty rubies. Air. They say it looks like silk and shine like jade. #vss365

The #speaker seems harmless now. CLoistered in the poem. Plenty of neighbouring words to nibble. He was once a seamonster. He was once a she-dragon with plashing tails. It was dark rage. Dark error. But watch him now, sunning his speckled belly. #vss365

What if instead of misunderstanding we had #nudibranch, as a phenomenon I mean. No divorce, no war, no problems at work, no disease even. Just a lot of seaslugs, soft sand, and slow moving, slightly bewildered sunlight. #vss365

In the evening, #predatory houses will have eaten half the street. We will have become longer. We'll spook behind the lampposts. We'll loop around the remaining buildings and watch. But for now, it's morning. Come, love, let's play at beimg light. #vss365

At a year's end, more #narwhal than human, my thoughts curling and choking, I attempt to go up the stairs to my office. I stop. I'm perfectly fine. Not sick, not anything,not even that stressed or tired. And that stressed tired sea all around me. And there's no stairs. #vss365

Giant #marrows for your happiness. Lug them home for troubles with time. Overcome great hardships with their great power. When you shrink, live inside them. When you come back, let it be as one of their brethren. And eat well always. #vss365

Upside down vss365. Story: two men arecwalking diwn the street laughing. Two seagulls sre following, suspiciously alike. Please reply with a non English word that matches the story and tell us more about the word. (Idea for a new game. Want to learn new words).

I worked at a recycling centre once. #Selkies' coats and frogs' skins mostly. Better for the economy if they don't turn back. The smell of the place. And the weeping men,with their fists and dockets. As for the women, the once wild ones... guess where they got the staff. #vss365

My past selves are #whimpering. My past selves are eating halva and condensed milk. Hiding in fifteen books, lurking in cypress trees, growing saucer eyes. They can't see much. They're aching with tiredness. I am sorry I sided with the bullies back then, oh dear selves. #vss365

He said I was wrong: why would I ever see an #anglerfish. Too old, too domesticated. And time passes; why would I imagine life twisting and stetching into strange shapes. Bad thinking that, he says. His grin rises from the murk of his pint. His dead eyes stare. #vss365

You promised ancestor spirits,and you delivered #wraiths. What? They'll grow you say? Feed them, you say. Well the teeth are sharp. I could get them to guard a chest or two. Plenty of feeding there. What do you mean no human flesh? Allergies? Not Victorian, surely? #vss365