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 Dec 2016 Mosaic
Meg B
Dry Wall
 Dec 2016 Mosaic
Meg B
My body
feels small as I
stare at the the cracks in the
ceiling and
I am so small in my
loneliness,
my body shrinks and my
eyes glaze;
sandpaper tongue
and dry eyes
breathing stale air
and the cycle goes over and over
crumbling and
cracking and
splintering,
stumbling in darkness, my
body numb and also

Aching.

I'd ask where you are but
I don't even
Know who You is and that
is perhaps the most
painful part.
Or maybe it's that I'm so
        alone
in my loneliness(no one quite
seems to recall
t heir I solation)

Trees and grapes
I resolve to not need to
solve it;
I need no u's and
know you's
 Nov 2016 Mosaic
Stan Gichuki
I'm drinking for evolution, so that my children will have a stronger liver
 Nov 2016 Mosaic
Jeff Stier
Gunpowder blue sky
yet no blue, really
except for the blue
wrapped into the spectrum
of black to grey to white

A storm blows in
the sea in an uproar
no holds barred
no remorse for the cormorant
or the gull
in these fierce swells

We know nothing of power
until we know the sea.
We know nothing of journeys
until we journey upon waters
as wild as these.

Odysseus would have shied
from this salt caldron
from these wind-tossed waves
stayed on some pleasant rock
imbibing the lotus.

And who would blame him?
Only a fool
or a sailor without hope
would venture into the teeth
of this tempest.

And that sailor would have cause
to regret his choice
would understand the depths
of his folly
as he slipped into darkness
and clasped hands
with the legions of the drowned
asleep in the swirl of the sea.
you stepped
into my room
last night
quietly watching me dream
the warmth of
your breath
floating towards me

hesitation
as emotions fluctuated
a kaliedescope
all the possibilities,
ever changing

I almost felt
then not...
a moment
when we may have
reconnected
yet
your seperation
from me palpable

eyes shut
my hypervigilance
instinctual
protecting my being
knowing
that by opening
myself to you
I may feel
my heart
breaking
once again*

Copyright © October, 2016.
Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
 Sep 2016 Mosaic
Matthew Harlovic
this morning i watched
a cigarette drop from
the pocket of a man
onto the floor of the
train. it rained earlier
and bits of dew and
dirt drained into the
cracks, but there lay
the cigarette intact.
i could have reached
for this man and told
him how he misplaced
the nail to his coffin,
yet i said nothing and
let him off coughing.

© Matthew Harlovic
 Sep 2016 Mosaic
Ashlee Reyes
bring me in
brutal honesty
I want to feel you fingertips
all over me and under me.

make my hair come undone,
true intentions
my clothes all on your ground.

breathless
and mesmerized
I want small things about you
to become big things in this world of mine.

the way you taste
and the sounds you bring forth,
it won't go unremembered the reason
we're here for.
 Sep 2016 Mosaic
ryn
Dawn
 Sep 2016 Mosaic
ryn
We stand in twilight hues...
Fingers consciously entwined in a clasp.
We speak without vocals
that crescendo between sighs and gasps.

We anticipate...
But we do not look forward...
Not to the promise of freedom and salvation.
More so the uncertainty
that resonate with the *****
of feathered morning birds.

The unknown scares us so.
We know not of what lurks,
in the impending light of day.
We simply bide the ticking seconds...
As we scramble for the right words to say.

When there needn't be such uncomfortable silence.
No need for an awkward stance.
For we've embraced the melody,
memorised the lyrics
and rehearsed the dance.

Yet...
We hesitate...
Even though we've decided that we must.
For what shadow that looms agape below us,
hurling threats of swallowing us whole,
will soon be warded off...
As quick as the errant gust.

The darkness...
Will soon be cast behind our backs.
And all would be committed to memory
as surely as it had begun.
It would dissipate as it would stretch far...
But only if we turn to face the dawning sun.
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