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  Nov 2016 Ana Sweeney
ryn
We can never
rewrite history
and the future
is impossible to pen.

When the present
bears only anarchy
in the darkened,
tainted hearts of men.
  Nov 2016 Ana Sweeney
Corvus
There's a girl that follows me everywhere.
Sometimes she trails behind me like a shadow,
And sometimes she stands in front of me like a distorted reflection
From a mirror that doesn't speak the present tense.
Words don't exist between us,
She just looks at me with blue eyes bordered by long lashes.
Sometimes I drag her through the looking glass
And tell her she's just like me.
But not as smart.
She looks at the mirror and sees wounds, scars, flaws, ugliness,
Where I see learning, growing, beauty.
Life itself is dancing across her skin
To a beat so fast and erratic that it leaves scorches.
I try to tell her that,
But my words are silenced by her attempts to grow wings.
I applaud this display of determination,
But I sit so far back that she fails before the claps reach her ears.
I sit there and watch her, and it's funny, because I have her wings,
But I can't give them to her, she can only grow them.
So I ask life to snap her DNA in a few places, replace them,
Whisper a few words of wisdom into her brain and hope that those seeds take,
Mutate. Grow into the wings she wants,
The wings that'll let her fly to places
She doesn't even know yet that she wants to go.
Child, girl, adolescent, you'll never be a woman.
You won't live long enough, you'll die bleeding,
Ripping out your ****** while shedding skin.
And you know what? You'll love it.
  Nov 2016 Ana Sweeney
Doug Potter
Remember the afternoon we watched
the police drag the lake searching
for the Williams boy as we drank
Dr. Pepper?

There was a hell of a crowd
you had both hands on
Shelly’s *** & she
****** down her

thighs when the kid
bobbed up, face
pale blue, eyes
wide.
  Nov 2016 Ana Sweeney
Shashi
Night
    drenched in my loneliness,
questioning

the empty sky,
the lost stars,
the invisible moon.

Who's mine, she asks?

the wind,
once very dear
is numb tonight

clouds,
no Sir, they got no words.

Its sheer cold
But what's burning?

Is that your heart?
Oh, but how

how come this fire
from the ashes
Evolve
in the freezing night.

A trace of love
Or a ray of hope

But they have all long gone?
Or Not?
  Nov 2016 Ana Sweeney
Doug Potter
The thought of loving

Brings me to you

Who I carry in my pocket

Like a needle

*** could be joyous

Or, anticlimactic   .
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