Volumetric

i tuck my wings beneath the seams of indelicate triage a fuselage of time’s bounded barrage disparage at cost of trade beyond the parade of a rippled montage while we play charades with bombs and brigades ~ i have been sweetly remade by hands that assuage this voluptuous volumetric the balance of whispers in my […]

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Selvage

as swallows who split the air in iridescent sheer the beauty of Love’s essence is what i choose to wear . ©M.G. Iannucci 2018 Our senses evolved for the purpose of survival, light and dark, hot and cold, loud and quiet. Between the extremes lies a brief space of stillness where beauty thrives. What if […]

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Unshuttered

tree bark, the rough staccato press of popcorn plaster on cheek and chest. . the fragrance of moss  and moist depressions earthenware silk silt  beneath the furry tone of mycelium confident of its path despite a lack of foresight. . and green  dripping from single layer  leaflet lips  quenched in the dusky light, the rustle  […]

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Imaginary Impediments

branches  once outstretched  are staked in earth, a synthetic boundary only the terrestrial heed. . she is the winged generation, migrating celestially, barriers do not exist in her reality. . © M.G. Iannucci 2017 Photo: Farm Woodbury, CT

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Butterfly Hearts

​Butterflies wear the color Of their heart’s desire  On their wings. © M. G. Iannucci 2016

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Friendship

“The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, not the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when you discover that someone else believes in you and is willing to trust you with a friendship.” Ralph Waldo Emerson  Another great experience. This butterfly was the […]

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Flying South

You do not notice That I am saying goodbye. Like Monarch flies south     Careless if my wings Will carry me the distance, Fly is what I do.     Glimpsing a bright space Of azure sky I catch wind Bound for something more.     Did you ever care For more than beautiful […]

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Nonattachment : The Practice of Love

​The more we cling to a handful of sand, the more it slips through our fingers. The only way to hold the sand is to let it be.” – Paul Coutinho Nonattachment…holding things loosely as if you were holding a butterfly.

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