It was a small bit of freedom
Stolen under the dark desert sky
It was counted out
Not by minutes or hours
But kernel by kernel
Of delicious forbidden fruit
Eaten slowly
Like a lover
Savoring every sweet drop
Nothing else existed
For the moment
But the wide open night
And sweet rough skinned fruit
Torn open bit by bit
Slowly anticipating every ruby orb
That would burst it’s sweet juice
In wet pleasure
The nights were hot and dry
The smell of dust
Still hanging like a veil
And it was it all was about the dust
That freedom giving dust
Not from the dry desert
But the dust left on the window sill
Tended in soft careful piles
Next to the bars
To be carefully packed back into place
So they could lie
Lie about the night
Lie about the fruit
And the forbidden trysts
Under the outstretched arms
Of the small twisted tree
But the rough red peels
Left carelessly strewn about
By small unwitting fingers
Eventually told the truth
That the bars wouldn’t
And they started counting the fruits
Every day and every morning
The bounty now left untouched
But the night was still there
With stars close enough to hold in your hand
The hot desert breeze gently breathing
And every moment
Free

I am no ordinary girl
I am not just a girl.
I am woman.
I am powerful
Elegant
Graceful
They knock us down with their fists
But we arise
we arise
to a new dawn
a new day
they accuse us and portray us as monsters
because they know we are getting closer
to winning
winning the fight
for may our fists not be strong
but our voices are mighty
our voices are mighty
we are mighty

It was all a reality Doris had come to accept (and Bernard too, to an extent). They had moved as if they were one entity for the majority of their life. Every thought would come in pairs; each footstep was echoed by the other, and every wine bottle was shared. They'd been wed for 50 years now, and with each anniversary, they found themselves becoming all the more soluble; mixed together like some kind of brilliant concoction: a solution to all of life’s problems.

I never knew
       this day would come
    as fast as it did.

                 I always thought
              that I would just
               stay young
                       forever.

Because
         honestly,

      being young
is the only
           thing I'm
      good at.

The sun set in my eyes
the day you left
and it hasn't risen since.

Some people say they're afraid of thunder.
I don't understand that.
I find it beautiful.
The howl of wind,
The pounding of rain from the midnight sky.

And then for a moment, lightning illuminates the darkness.
My heart beat quickens with anticipation.
I know what comes next.
BOOM.

Four simple letters simply can't do it justice.
I love the sound,
A sound so big it seems to swallow me whole.
If your lucky, it might last longer than an instant.
Maybe a second or two or three.
But in that second, it demands to be heard.

So powerful, yet somehow so calming.

Did I mention I love thunder?

Sometimes,
I just feel really low...

And I can't make sense
of anything
good until
it's standing
    in
    my
    way.