The light of the November moon
Laid on top of the air
Like an unwanted blanket
Suffocating Carolyn in too much warmth
Which mixed with her salt tears
Tightening the noose woven with pain
And throwing distant memories into the swirling air
Of her beautiful Rose
An angel who finally made it to heaven
To meet with a world which held no hurt.

Collections of Rose never failed to appear in Carolyn’s head
Scratching their way into reality
With every Cheshire Cat smile and every light giggle that harvested over her face
Throughout the period of many moons and many suns.
With every twinkle of her glossy eyes and every compassionate touch of her hands.
She lured Carolyn in with lust
Like Medusa’s hissing snakes seducing innocent half-bloods
And it was a feeling which could never escape the girl
As her black boots shuffled through dead grass
The color of spaghetti just as it finished cooking through boiling water.

The buzz of crickets scattered throughout the yard.
Each gray headstone staring at numb Carolyn
Reminding her of every unfortunate love one who grieved the same as she.
The only two things to seem alive were the wandering girl and new flowers
Which laid on top of the soil and leaned against headstones
But one of those two felt dead
As if there was no reason to go on since love had been lost with the noose.
Carolyn didn’t know how love never ended
Even as her head hung low and her spirit hung even lower
Rose still loved her as she watched from where she had fallen.

Wind tugged at Carolyn’s hair and tossed it gently about her forehead.
Her skinny fingers shook like the orange autumn leaves
Being torn off the last branch of a dying tree
That could no longer take all the rain.
And her eyes stung with tears which dripped upon her parted lips
Tasting of all the chemicals from her makeup.
Recollections of Rose’s last days haunted her tired eyes as she edged closer.
After many days full of smiles
Her best friend’s stare became cold and numb
Like winter nights when the snow was uncontrollable
And no one bothered to switch the streetlamp light bulbs.

Carolyn knew where the grave was placed as she turned past unknown names
In what used to be spring green grass
Covered in flowers of a rainbow assortment
For those who grieved never went to the grave empty handed.
Her feet stopped with a sudden regret as the name stared back at her.
The name of her best friend.
Carolyn’s eyes slipped shut as short breaths escaped her chapped lips.
She melted her headaches that haunted her head
Called this world which no longer included her best friend her home
And placed a single rose the color of crimson and the symbol of love
On the angel’s grave.

Let me whisper to the sun
An arm, a pillow
A tale beyond my mind
Warm dust beneath
Macro image spliced about
No rules, too heavy
Lapping water and haze
Take me under to dream
Nowhere to go
Yet everywhere

© Cat

Dear NASA,

I read somewhere that voluptuous women
do well in zero-gravity environments.
This makes complete sense to me
(and the “ladies.”)
Trust me, I've seen the pictures—
and we want that.

Hear me out.

Gravity's a drag.
Bras are too ****** expensive.
I feel like I’d manage to look twenty-five
for another twenty-five years
if I could somehow
avoid the sandbaggage
that I'm doomed to inherit.

It's a comfortable thought
to picture the once distressed,
top-heavy lady population
floating in ecstasy,
brassiere-less and beaming—
soaking in a  freedom so sweet
that a word just couldn't do it justice.

I think I speak for the whole
of my curvy comrades  
when I say that we'd appreciate
your cooperation in getting the lead out
as you breach the final frontier.

Because let me level with you:
there are plenty of things in this world
that can bring a girl down—
our most enjoyable assets
should not be two of them.

Please join us in the fight to stay ****.

With the warmest gratitude,

B

Used to think we'd be nothing more than innocent friends, now I gaze in your eyes when I wanna take a trip to the stars, and when I need a fix, I dial your digits and you give me it, the butterflies flutter and I wonder, how would life be if you weren't soothing me to sleep, or hugging me tightly until my sadness didn't seem to exist?

You’re the singer standing in front
Of a standing ovation
Trying to hide behind a microphone
Because you cannot comprehend
How bright you are
Actually shining

With my eyes
I forge canyons,
deep rivers and wild
landscapes, mountains
that kiss the sky and
land locked lakes

I move, limb by
limb, away from the
sadness that haunts
me, with my feet
I map out my future,
with my fingers
I bury the past

I imagine
you finding me
amongst the rocks
I lay against their edges
as if I am a mermaid
with golden hair
instead a mortal girl
trapped, in a believable
body

when you reach me,
your spread me
like a plague
and the stones
beneath me
shall shake

afterwards, we are face
to face, staring into
the eyes of each
other, and in that
reflection we become
enemies

you leave me, wordless

my eyes now,
like a camera,
containing images
that never develop
into landscapes
of love