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 Sep 2019 SamanthaX
Sara Brummer
Glittering brilliance, these crystal panels
dressed in their thick, gold frames,
cupping and shaping the light,
pooling images the second they appear,
then, unlike the camera, they let go,
swallowing the world whole,
preparing for the next procession
of time-bond creatures.
They respect transience,
creating their own temporary ripples,
their own instantaneous installations.
They are mime artists of illusion,
disappearing as the earth darkens.
Patiently, for they wait for the return
of light, never doubting it will come.
 Sep 2019 SamanthaX
B D Caissie
Electric
Your touch
Lights me up

Breath on breath
Seeing stars
Bliss

©
They talked about him as the one
who none had ever seen smile.

You couldn't gauge
if he was happy or depressed
no emoji could describe
the repressed expression
but all said
he was dutiful.

Caring husband and father
responsible family head
silent bread earner.

His constant arrangement made sure
the home was neatly organized
not one object was out of place
and but for the children
it would have been hard to guess
if he ever met his wife privately
summing up him to be named
robot
and the belief in his name was strong.

When his wife died
he wailed so loud
it could be heard beyond town.

To the neighbors,
it was mechanical breakdown.
 Sep 2019 SamanthaX
Riz Mack
plan for the future
live in the moment
learn from the past
but don't dwell on it

be aware of your thoughts
don't let them control you
get out your mind
but don't lose it

life is pain
pain is temporary
death is forever
make it glorious
need a more sardonic font
 Sep 2019 SamanthaX
Lilly F
the isolation wasn't poison, but a drug
one that I tried to drown myself into
until my brain would save myself, breathing in more air
panting rapidly,
loving how it felt to be on the edge of letting go
for just a second, to be with the nothingness surrounding me
until the world resumed
my heartbeat became evident
and the unsatisfaction of reality reappeared

©L.F.
 Sep 2019 SamanthaX
basil
i miss smoking,
but i think i miss you more.
Flipping through men
Like a deck of elaborately
Designed
Playing cards.

Blowing cotton seeds
Of “I love you”
Into the wind.

I’m not ready.

I keep saying that,
And it keeps getting disregarded
Because I’m a woman.
All women are waiting to be loved,
After all.

But I’m waiting for my own love
To wrap around my imperfect body,
Grow into my trauma fueled mind
And give me the chance
To build myself around it.
To cling to it
As if I am a vine,
And it a supporting tree.

But still,
“I care for you.”
“I want you to be mine.”
“We have a connection.”
“You’re special to me.”
“We’re together.”

And no one listens
To my protests.
My discouragement
Makes them believe they can change me.
Makes them believe
The reward will be so much better.

But I’m not ready.
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