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 Mar 2015 Brielle Lachelle
Sam
I like to imagine,
That our hands are intertwined together,
That our legs are tangled in the sheets,
That my head is on your chest,
And our heart beats in synch
I was fragile
& you were strong

"You are right, I'm always wrong"
As much as I want to dislike you,
I can't say I don't miss talking to you.

As much as I want to resent you,
I can't say I don't miss thinking I had a chance with you.

As much as I want to loathe seeing your face,
Your smile and your eyes are just too beautiful.

As much as I want to reject you when you say hi,
Every word just sounds so sweet.

As much as I want to wish you death,
I can't help thinking I'd die with you.

As much I want to hate you,
Like I've never hated anyone before,
As much as I want to hate someone for the very first time,
I can't help but admit that I really fell in love with you.
 Mar 2015 Brielle Lachelle
Maria
And in the darkest of nights,    
In the darkest of nights when not even the moon dares to peak out from its nebulous slumber, the ocean and sky have no beginning or end only black from earth to heaven.
Unlike us, neither ocean nor sky find fault in each others blackberry hues, unlike you the ocean never stopped kissing the shore line no matter the light.
We greet each other with apologies
Followed by instantaneous forgiveness
Silent, mutual
Screamed with half-smiles
Shy and sweet

We are polar in circumstance
From birth and forever imposed by this
Society
but we are connected by the meridian
of silent looks, obvious telepathy
but we are too rational for that

You are explicit with your shame
Your debt to me
You apologise twice more
“I’m sorry I cannot give you time”
“I’m sorry you are lonely”
A benediction,
“I hope you are not stressed”

We both know why you are sorry
You are the one
With the white picket fence
The obstacle
While I am free but kept wanting
You are sorry we only met now

I reply with my best grin
Feign confidence and
Reward you with my most beautiful laugh
Carefree; that would fool most people
But we are not most people
You know how I hurt

You are sharp
Like freshly clipped nails
I am not; I’m only beginning
But I am the loom that slowly weaves
The frays you’ve snagged
I am the carrier of your hopes
The executor of your will

So I write this poem
To keep me warm
in cold evening train rides and
The general banality
A fan-fic, of the thin pamphlet
That is our fleeting meet

I know you want to read me
Like the latest best-seller
You see clues, a blurb
My handwriting, erratic like yours
But more forceful
The authors, films
And tortured rock goddesses
I adore

My English Lit textbook
hidden in my drawer
dog-eared And scribbled
at Lessing, Rushdie and Joyce
I know you read it on Sunday
When no one was at work

Last night I covered my face
With a clean white sheet
And pretended to be your bride
I’d stand in front of headlights
Just to see your shadow
By my side
Response to From Eden and It Will Come Back by Hozier
Love came
When I was on my own
Love came
When I was left in the cold
Love came
when I was barefoot
Love came
And gave me hope
Love came
And gave me warmth
Love came
And broke the spell
Love came
To fetch me out of hell
Love came!
Copyright Afrodita Nestor
 Mar 2015 Brielle Lachelle
Chris
I sat there watching you and him,
wondering what has he got
that I don’t have
and then it hits me,
he has you
‘I always wanted to see your face,’ she said,
She was teasing me,
I’d gone along to our twentieth wake
Since we’d been divorced, and free.
We got on better than ever we had
When chained together in time,
That piece of paper had choked us both
But being apart, sublime!

I looked across at the massive cake
They had wheeled across the floor,
‘Now that’s what I call a giant bake,’
I said. She said, ‘There’s more!’
There were twenty candles around the top
And seven around the lip,
The twenty since we had been divorced
And seven for when we flipped.

The seven year itch was what it was
When we ended up in court,
We really should have got over it
But we’d given it little thought,
For the plumber lasted a month or two
She confessed, in one of her gripes,
For she got bored with him on the floor
Checking her taps and pipes.

And I got sick of the Dolly Bird
Who had lisped, she would be mine,
Who liked to strip to the Beatles hits
When her head was full of wine,
It all fell flat when the passion died
And we stopped to get our breath,
There was nothing she had to say inside
So she bored me half to death.

We came together just once a year
As a mark of our mistake,
And every year with the slightest tear
We would share a Parting Cake.
I’d never seen one as big as this
It was white, and frilled with lace,
And that’s when Jennifer said to me,
‘I wanted to see your face!’

The lid flipped up and the stripper rose
As I dropped my jaw, and gaped,
She stood a moment and struck a pose,
‘That’s my present for you, Jake!
It’s a bit too late to apologise
For making that awful scene,
But I think we’re older now, and wise,
And you get to lick off the cream!’

The girl was covered in cream all right
On her thighs and hips and breast,
‘You get to lick what you want tonight
And I’ll scrape off the rest.’
She laughed, I laughed, and I saw her then
As the face of one I’d missed,
There was little thought of the stripper then
As we both leaned in, and kissed.

David Lewis Paget
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