in Original Fiction and Poetry/Poetry by
Silence. Let it wash over me — soothing, calming. In the distant background there is only self. Silence. It creeps, rooting its way into my spine, arching it backwards and stretching vertebrae. I feel it enter my mouth and settle between my teeth, rest there beneath my jaw.
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B.G. Reynolds is the Founder, Managing Editor, and a contributor at Falchion Publications. He has written and explored a variety of topics ranging from Russian Symbolism to the future role of artificial intelligence in society and art. These days he enjoys the good life, taking frequent trips to the Black sea for inspiration and rejuvenation. He is writing a novel and lives in Dallas with his wife and daughter.