by Alexis
"The voice of the sea is seductive, never-ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in an abyss of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul, the touch of the sensuous sea is enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace." -Kate Chopin
By Josh
when the curtains are sheer between the verses
i find myself content. reminded that there
is here. then now.
reassuring how strong the bonds of where are.
here i am and then too.
there you are
and here.
"Bumps" by Scott
Small orange bumps cover the brand new basketball. Water falls and leaves bumps on her shiny hood as the engine pings and cools. The single tiny drops move slowly until they touch together, joining, then accelerate toward the ground. Ice can break the largest piece of granite in two if the water finds a crack. Broken glass pops and sizzles as the cracked plate sits on cold concrete. Some remains in the lawn. Nobody will rake it out because there are no more leaves to fall. Tonight the water comes. One leaf does nothing on its own but too many can block the drain and cause a flood. Bumps appear under the beard on his face, and on top his vibrating skin. Her bump will turn into weight and love.
"Baby Body and Water" by Melony
Obscure lips to press against yours
Blurred torso to hold onto
Hand to remember the day we met
"Deer" by Danielle
He has thick black hair, many hairs. When we shave his head he looks like a small boy or a football player. He squats low on pieces of newspaper laid out in front of the sink. The bathroom is big and unfinished, it has two windows and four doors. The floors are wooden. He doesn't wear any clothes. He is beautiful.
He begins alone, shaving sections of his big round head. He runs his hand over and over to feel if they are smooth and even. I like to watch him do this, watch the chunks of hair fall to the floor. I watch him go over and over again, the bright hum of the razor, the water in the sink, long bent legs, long feet on the newspaper. Him, just off the floor. His hands.
I help him when he's almost done. I find the spots he missed. I push hard to get through the thickness. I trim around his ears, which makes him nervous. He closes his eyes and holds his breath. I never cut him. He goes over everything again just to be sure.
He sweeps the hairs into the white plaster container and I turn on the shower. He gets in with me. All of his little hairs go down the drain. The water's warm and the shower curtain is cloudy and he holds me close to him. He dries me off at the end, one leg and arm at a time.
"At Play" by Jeff
".anywhere I lay my head.." by Skot
by Biz
"I travel.
En route to a higher point
where I am."
"Dear Heart" by Leaf
By Roksana
When this temple is no longer ours
And has become a roaming ruin
Standing,
White-washed,
Away among the cypresses
Will any stranger know
How to tell my forehead from a plate
Or see that it is your bust
That still remains there in the corner?
Who will know the window from the door?
The bricks that we assembled one by one,
Shall they always remind the world of us?
Of you and I, who now know
Of no other words but “you and I”
And build and furnish
Without end.
Without beginning.
How much of this eternity
Shall remain?
By Bret
"These buildings and atmospheres are bleeding into each-other"
"United in Darkness" by Matt
By David
"inside the box is a mirror trick for the right wing american"
"H Fella" by Rose
