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 Jul 2011 Annabel
D Conors
our hands
one each, fingers splayed,
long and warm,
pressed against my
chest,
mine pressed against your
breast,
taking in so softly with each
palm,
of our excitement, yet so
calm,
soothing, smoothing, tenderly
touches,
the other hands,
holding on so
tight
all for the time being oh so
right.

our hands.
D. Conors c. 28 May 2010
And, this bit of line,
Here,
Tells me why your heart’s
Achings pour out
So thickly
In your sighs-

Why you paint on
Boisterous smiles,
To draw away from
Your telling eyes.

My fingertips feeling,

The way the bowl dips,
Deeply,
Full of somethings
Too heavy,
Find the reasons
You can’t fall prey
To those who don't say,
But reveal,

With rottenly
Itching fingers,

&

Why I can't do away with
Those maddening strokes,
That have melted into
Cracks in marble.

You've so many
Drooping wilts,
On a wiltingly drooping line,

Dripping
Downward
In their gentle slopes,

Reminding me
To be gentle
In the way that I
Love you
In ashen days.

Though,

These three little x's,
Snickering beneath your bowl,
Tell me,

You've probably been
Reading me,
In opaquely mirrored ways,

Peering from your bowl,
All along.
© 2011 Elephants & Coyotes
 Jul 2011 Annabel
Marsha Singh
now I'm a shipwreck in a sundress,
an aimless, shameless coquette –
a first kiss, a second guess,
a weak and wobbly pirouette.
 Jul 2011 Annabel
gs kerr
I do not exist.

I am nothing but water
Sad songs
Brittle bones and fading memories.

A string of notes
Discordant
Unharmonious
Chaotic and beautiful.

Vibrating
Exposed
Bouncing off of everything
Absorbed only in the subconscious.

We do not exist.

Beyond ego
Extending into the world
Known by none.

Permanently adrift
Alone
Struggling to love
Confused in its definition.

Closed eyes
Captured
Characters in each other’s story.

Propelled into life
Forgetting our time is limited
Forgoing experience
Creating a novel
Ultimately disappearing and being forgotten.
 Jul 2011 Annabel
Joseph Yzrael
Outside my unseeing windows
Stringed lamp posts
Pierce the deepest night.

Lights still dance
Along the streets,
Reflected in silent pools,
Splashed by gentle roars
Of pavement rubber
Racing the idled road.

Beneath my candid room
The aircon units gargle
Their cold nocturne
Of sleep and thought.

The sidewalk stays mindful --
Witness to murmured kegs
And murdered heels,
Its quiescence reverberates
The gentle parley
Of blaring merchant loons.

The boulevard refuses
To choke in darkness.

My mind will wait until
The clamour of morning
Shatters this weighted gloom.
A degree above that happiness
That makes you want to
Squirm about, for-
What seems-

No
Apparent

Reason.
© 2011 Elephants & Coyotes
And with these pills in my hand,
I know I have power.

Five little blue pills
Could mean anything:
Sleep as dark,
But as peaceful,
As a coma
Where I do not even dream.
Or a slumber I may not wake up from.

I have power,
If just tilt back my head
And toss these little blue pills into my mouth
As though if they were coins
And it was a wishing well.

If I washed them down,
All five at a time
Would tomorrow fade
Just like my consciousness?

Would my world be shoved into a little dark box
And hidden in the corners of the attic?
And then go up in flames
In the house
It hid
Or had been hidden?

I stand there and wonder
How something so powerful
Was smaller than my fingertips.

How something so powerful
Could be simply swallowed like food.

How something so powerful
Could sit there in your medicine cabinet,
And watch you as you ate breakfast,
Or as you brushed your teeth.

How there were hundreds of thousands
Of little blue pills like this
In your local supermarket or drugstore,
Sitting there on the shelves,
Their power charging as they waited
Like predators
For innocent you to buy a bottle of them
And swallow
One too many.
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