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  Jan 2016 Francisco DH
mark john junor
her endless summer dream
gathers dust on its sand encrusted photo of
beach blanket love affairs

jet planes departing for distant lands
she had her five and dime sunglasses
and a transistor radio
tuned to the cheerful forever summer song
still has that picture of her in the fall of 66
hamming it up for the camera with her Stanley
he passed a while back

now she shuffles up along the seawall
with her big hat and her bags
candy for little ones
a kiss on the cheek for the nice
young man who brings the paper
its miami in febuary
its endless summer
its brighton beach's southside
and i know ill have to stay
If my Valentine you won't be,
I'll hang myself on your Christmas tree.
  Dec 2015 Francisco DH
Love
My dearest Katlyn,
I love the way that sounds. I love the way your name just flows off my tongue like it’s the most natural thing in the world. To me, we are the most natural thing in the world. I believe it was fate that brought us together all those years ago, when we were nothing more than innocent children. Now our innocence has been stripped from our bones and our bodies have developed along with lines of laughter and worry across our faces. Yet you are the one, who after all this time, I still cling to. Back then, you were my rock and my safety net in a new and confusing environment, not much has changed.
Our history is a rocky one, to say the least. It’s full of drama and heartbreak; but as well as love and passion. I swear we could add a little embellishments and have our own soap opera. Despite all the troubles from our past, I hold those memories dear. Because when I recall those times, I don’t just recall arguments and words thrown, I recall the way you stumble over words when you’re flustered and how red your face gets when your choking words down. As for our better times, I worship those memories as if they are held upon a mental shrine; protected, never to be tampered with or tainted. There are things I have come to regret. I regret not swallowing my fear and being proud to tell everyone, “This is the girl I love!”, but during those times, I wasn’t ready. Although, our hidden love did make sneaking around so much more exciting. Sometimes I wish we could go back in time about three years and just show ourselves then that it was okay and it turns out for the best.
Things are more than okay. You are the love of my life and the one to spend forever with, however long forever may be.
  Dec 2015 Francisco DH
Love
-and if you choose to stay,
come to accept the things I say,
as the surface of everything hidden,
because my heart can tell you what my mouth didn't.
Simple thoughts. I really miss you and can't wait for you to come home.
  Dec 2015 Francisco DH
Cody Haag
The manifestation of love is ineffable;
No description honors it,
No matter how full.

You can love and hate,
At the same time,
I know that fate.

One's heart can be half-poisoned,
Bitter ink scuffing against the red;
I know what it's like,
To feel only half-dead.
From where I sit in this bicycle rickshaw
everything is in motion.

Balloons, massed into colourful clouds,
ride in the rickshaw just ahead.

Brahmin cows walk by, unconcerned
by the tiny cars speeding and honking.

People of every age and description
walk towards the stalls and shops.

From where I sit in this bicycle rickshaw
pale pink sari fluttering around me,
all is completely still and silent,
*even as everything is in motion.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
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