The sheets hang off your limbs, and when you smile at me its like youre laughing at something just behind me, over my shoulder. The sun sliding in through the window casts shadows everywhere, and as you stand, the sheets fall into a pile on the floor. You become a silhouette and I become your anything.
She sat in the chair, her hands resting in the fold of her skirt. It had been a difficult day, the funeral of her best friend. She had known Carly since she was five, they had met on the first day of school. They had been best friends since then; had gone through primary and high scool together and travelled overseas as eighteen year olds. What would she do without her?
fold is a cool word you can fold laundry, paper, and many other things teams that have to forfeit a game also have to “fold”, a very fascinating word many meanings
Folding laundry is cool when you do it the Martha Stewart style. It’s amazing the kinds of things that she can do around the house. Have you ever tried her recipe for macaroni and cheese? It’s unbeatable. She was a babe when she was young too.
wrinkle wrinkle crinkle white
bright
hard edge
sharp edge
bending over
lines of a lover
folding sheeting
white and fleeting crinkles
hushing sound
prim and proper
show your lover
to me
wrinkle wrinkle
smile
and crinkle
fold was the word of the day yesterday. i am severely disappointed. on the other hand, fold fold fold fold fold say it enough and it starts to sound weird… like collect collect collect and enough enough enough enough ENOUGH ENOUGH. i hope you all have a pleasant day.
The folds of soft fabric over my smooth skinned body. I use it to measure, pose in the mirror. Watch how it drips off my thigh and sighs at the floor. The floor is pooled with it, and so are my arms.
Today was a beautiful summer day. The birds were chirping outside. Children were running around playing. The adults were sitting on the porch watching the kids play. Everyone was so excited because it was the first day of summer vacation. They had waited patiently throught out the school year for this day to come.
I fold my sunglasses at night so they don’t so they don’t get scratched and if they do somehow get scratched I buy I buy myself some new ones. And if all this crap fails then I start on a new trail. And so there we go there we go. It’s done and now so am I.
I do this sometimes. Fold in on myself. When I’m fightened or nervous or just having a bad day. It’s like I crumple up. It’s protection, hiding I guess.
Fold your lips until nothing escapes. I promise these words will no longer hate. This expression will soften until its as smooth as a mask. Though sometimes I wonder, when you will ask. So fold your lips and close your eyes. This nightmare we’re having will reveal its disguise.
It’s your leg, then mine, then yours again, as we fold ourselves together in bed. Wrestling against the tide of covers, we transcend the laws of friction. I could live in your arms, and never leave this place. For, you are my safety net in this deep sea of sufferance.
The trees started to fold over oin themselves as I watched through the foggy window. I heard a noise behind me, but when I turned, there was nobday there. I should have expected that, not having anyone there. My whole life I had just been a folded paper that no one cared to read. So now I was all alone in the middle of the mountains, losing my mind and seeing and hearing things that weren’t actually there….
Her fingers pressed lightly on the fold of the towel. The smell and neatness of fresh linens typically calmed her. This afternoon, however, a tear rolled down her face. How had things gotten so out of control? Would they ever be “normal” again? And the main person she had to blame was herself.
I watched you fold the laundry,
wrapping the sleeves
of my favorite green shirt
inward onto each other,
creasing the fabric with determination
as the shirt landed on the top of the pile.
I was folding my clothes while packing for an upcoming business trip when I had a sudden flashback. I was three years old, and my father was packing for his own business trip at the time. He never came back from that journey. The airplane crash-landed in the middle of the Atlantic, and the rescue crew couldn’t get mobilized in time.
There is a fold in his shirt. And this form of attire, it has never before been so important to me, so intensely occupying in my mind. I want to reach over and fix it, but that might mean brushing against those fine lines that we’ve set, that he’s set and I’m afraid to cross, because I do not wish to lose him no matter what. But to brush his skin, while fixing his shirt in a casual manner, that might make me lose my restraint
I folded things yesterday. I found this amazing program, or website really, where I was timed and I had to write about the first thing that came to mind when I saw a single word. “Fold”. It was tough the first time, though I appreciate the creative exercise. But for the second day in a row? You aren’t going to improve. You’re just going to get annoyed at this rate.
reaching across the table my hand unclenches before the desired object can be held.
feeling errupted within me, explosions of red dashing accross the white creme of the tender shirt.
i folded the shirt, carressing its soft material and ironing out the bloody knots near the belly.
I fold the paper. Change its perceived form. Magical is it not? The human ability to impact our environment around us is so different from any other being that we are able to take in an image and then create something new entirely, or attempt to imitate the perfect perceived form. This is art.
When the whipped egg whites went into the mashed sweet potatoes, the directions were specific for the air trapped in the sweet mix had to stay for the best results. Nothing better than Thanksgiving!
i folded the paper into seven pieces and made an airplane. I flew that airplane off a building and onto the freeway. The airplane was cought in a windshield and caused a massive pileup. nobody was hurt.
The End.
The sheets hang off your limbs, and when you smile at me its like youre laughing at something just behind me, over my shoulder. The sun sliding in through the window casts shadows everywhere, and as you stand, the sheets fall into a pile on the floor. You become a silhouette and I become your anything.
towel laundry napkin ben five bold hold rolled crease bent table
She sat in the chair, her hands resting in the fold of her skirt. It had been a difficult day, the funeral of her best friend. She had known Carly since she was five, they had met on the first day of school. They had been best friends since then; had gone through primary and high scool together and travelled overseas as eighteen year olds. What would she do without her?
fold is a cool word you can fold laundry, paper, and many other things teams that have to forfeit a game also have to “fold”, a very fascinating word many meanings
half quarter hamburger hot dog school art crafts
Folding laundry is cool when you do it the Martha Stewart style. It’s amazing the kinds of things that she can do around the house. Have you ever tried her recipe for macaroni and cheese? It’s unbeatable. She was a babe when she was young too.
a fold is in a paper. Sometimes I don’t like it when my bookmark folds! It’s so so so annoying! I just don’t like it!
wrinkle wrinkle crinkle white
bright
hard edge
sharp edge
bending over
lines of a lover
folding sheeting
white and fleeting crinkles
hushing sound
prim and proper
show your lover
to me
wrinkle wrinkle
smile
and crinkle
fold was the word of the day yesterday. i am severely disappointed. on the other hand, fold fold fold fold fold say it enough and it starts to sound weird… like collect collect collect and enough enough enough enough ENOUGH ENOUGH. i hope you all have a pleasant day.
paper. you fold paper. and then that paper. it’s folded. you create shapes. images. snowflakes. boxes. cranes. anything everything. fold.
The folds of soft fabric over my smooth skinned body. I use it to measure, pose in the mirror. Watch how it drips off my thigh and sighs at the floor. The floor is pooled with it, and so are my arms.
ggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
only seven times, become one of the, bend contort contortionist
Today was a beautiful summer day. The birds were chirping outside. Children were running around playing. The adults were sitting on the porch watching the kids play. Everyone was so excited because it was the first day of summer vacation. They had waited patiently throught out the school year for this day to come.
I fold my sunglasses at night so they don’t so they don’t get scratched and if they do somehow get scratched I buy I buy myself some new ones. And if all this crap fails then I start on a new trail. And so there we go there we go. It’s done and now so am I.
I do this sometimes. Fold in on myself. When I’m fightened or nervous or just having a bad day. It’s like I crumple up. It’s protection, hiding I guess.
folding foldingue folledingue folle dingue crazy woman in french
Fold your lips until nothing escapes. I promise these words will no longer hate. This expression will soften until its as smooth as a mask. Though sometimes I wonder, when you will ask. So fold your lips and close your eyes. This nightmare we’re having will reveal its disguise.
It’s your leg, then mine, then yours again, as we fold ourselves together in bed. Wrestling against the tide of covers, we transcend the laws of friction. I could live in your arms, and never leave this place. For, you are my safety net in this deep sea of sufferance.
I folded the piece of paper containing the traces of my past and the dreams of my future. I folded the paper again and again and again.
The trees started to fold over oin themselves as I watched through the foggy window. I heard a noise behind me, but when I turned, there was nobday there. I should have expected that, not having anyone there. My whole life I had just been a folded paper that no one cared to read. So now I was all alone in the middle of the mountains, losing my mind and seeing and hearing things that weren’t actually there….
Her fingers pressed lightly on the fold of the towel. The smell and neatness of fresh linens typically calmed her. This afternoon, however, a tear rolled down her face. How had things gotten so out of control? Would they ever be “normal” again? And the main person she had to blame was herself.
I watched you fold the laundry,
wrapping the sleeves
of my favorite green shirt
inward onto each other,
creasing the fabric with determination
as the shirt landed on the top of the pile.
The fold was deep and harsh, the only thing standing out on the white page, and I wondered who had put it there, and what it was dividing.
to fold means to bring togehter. Many people life qith their brains fold. They don not open up for what goig on around them, their just followers.
fold as in a fold in clothes or something a fold in time as in history i am not sure abut this word! its so weird!
I was folding my clothes while packing for an upcoming business trip when I had a sudden flashback. I was three years old, and my father was packing for his own business trip at the time. He never came back from that journey. The airplane crash-landed in the middle of the Atlantic, and the rescue crew couldn’t get mobilized in time.
Laundry by a window. The color aqua, like water but not tangible, physically speaking. Of course.
bring together, encompass, mix, touch, bend, sit, relax, stressed, intense, concentrating, hide, prop up, display, create, change, bring together
there was a fold in the scarf. The scarf that held the photo of her long lost love was folded gently and lovingly around her last keepsake.
There is a fold in his shirt. And this form of attire, it has never before been so important to me, so intensely occupying in my mind. I want to reach over and fix it, but that might mean brushing against those fine lines that we’ve set, that he’s set and I’m afraid to cross, because I do not wish to lose him no matter what. But to brush his skin, while fixing his shirt in a casual manner, that might make me lose my restraint
educaton s gera for everyone i really like learn
I folded things yesterday. I found this amazing program, or website really, where I was timed and I had to write about the first thing that came to mind when I saw a single word. “Fold”. It was tough the first time, though I appreciate the creative exercise. But for the second day in a row? You aren’t going to improve. You’re just going to get annoyed at this rate.
reaching across the table my hand unclenches before the desired object can be held.
feeling errupted within me, explosions of red dashing accross the white creme of the tender shirt.
i folded the shirt, carressing its soft material and ironing out the bloody knots near the belly.
i looked down into the hamper, where the clothes had haphazardly landed the evening before.
I fold the paper. Change its perceived form. Magical is it not? The human ability to impact our environment around us is so different from any other being that we are able to take in an image and then create something new entirely, or attempt to imitate the perfect perceived form. This is art.
When the whipped egg whites went into the mashed sweet potatoes, the directions were specific for the air trapped in the sweet mix had to stay for the best results. Nothing better than Thanksgiving!
i fold the letter.
and send it to him.
it used to be like that.
and obviously it isn’t now.
but i’m happy with that.
i folded the paper into seven pieces and made an airplane. I flew that airplane off a building and onto the freeway. The airplane was cought in a windshield and caused a massive pileup. nobody was hurt.
The End.
overlapping