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 Jan 2015 Makiya
Zoë Bestel
autumn
 Jan 2015 Makiya
Zoë Bestel
porridge with syrup
duvets & long lies
crime novels, tea steam
she sleeps as the leaves die
 Jan 2015 Makiya
Zoë Bestel
sometimes i wonder
if i too am flying at
counterfeit flowers
 Jan 2015 Makiya
K Balachandran
A blue black cloud, all over me is written JOY
in the script of vapor, dense, moist and meaningful,
I am light, like a feather, the breeze is in love with me for that,
I love his gentle persuasion to waft, move about, explore..
and then--ravaged by wind my love changes direction.

I love freedom more than anything, but forgot limits, hover
now, I am no more attached to the green hills, they are jealous,
far above them am I, untouched by their vainglorious pride,
I am not hard-hearted, parched fields send shivers of lightning
break me in to thousand  smaller pieces, scatter around.

My love for this earth is kindled by the sights unfurling below
all the egrets, cormorants, storks and herons of great magnificence,
those kind hearted friends that fly with me often are in pain
like the farmers, there isn't enough water for anything.

A cloud is a thought, inspired by the love for mother earth
by the ocean I am gifted to the breeze, to tour around,
on many lands fell my shade, found life in all varieties,
now is the time to be kind at heart, melt, fall in torrents.
A cloud when you analyze is a thought full of love for earth,humanbeings
 Jan 2015 Makiya
bobby burns
():
you've taken up too many characters,
a placeholder, 0, is all i attribute to you.

(I):
i lack recall enough
to call back when
we first reacted--
science fair, maybe,
mâche volcanoes
from wet bits--
(too little base,
a surplus of vinegar)
the only magma
with measurable
pH

(II):
made cattle to caffeine,
the pastures we frequented
have gone out of business
by now

(III):
spoke and wrote
with silly string,
messy, childish,
hard to clean up--
impossible to pick
every adhesive trace
from tweed coat fibers--
i draped it around you
and left quietly without
apologizing

(IV):
number four, morphine drip,
corruption (with a caramel center),
you took me to a courtyard where
you had scrawled your number
with a gold safety pin stuck
in the grain--
didn't matter as long as they
brought you plain grain beverages--
i can't say how long i must have
been unconscious for you to
have been able to fully affix
trusses, crossbars and artificial joints
between prostheses--
you made a marionette of me
in a grubby alley operating room,
with an empty bottle
across the occipital for anesthesia,
and a patchwork of phone numbers
staring down from the scratched
portrait in the wood walls
of office buildings surrounding--
keep your cloths on a little longer
keep yourself closed from now on
keep yourself close from now on


[V]:
think of whichever oath you hold
gravely, and think of me, promising
i felt just as illusory as you before--
saved a letter from you i read sometimes
to remind myself how first real loves
can be, so as not to lose faith to cynicism,
and cynicism/stomach lining to coffee grounds.
thank you

[VI]:
i met you only once,
it was enough.
i didn't make out your
last name as you introduced
yourself between zipping up
your fly and cinching your belt,
and even while you walked
inside, between dry heaves,
i could think only of
your Texan-tinsel-town namesake--
good luck streaming the past like
mother's ashes from the back of
your lake boat so many miles from home,
it's all anyone could ask

(VII):
i took that polaroid of you;
you had your hand over
a candle flame and the
shadows dancing between
your fingers illuminated
the spare patches of snow
remaining on the playground.
there was no mistaking
the draining of my swimming
pool of ego as i witnessed
you staring out from each
ice crystal reflection in awe:
your smile tumbled down
the slide and spilled into laughter
while
your voice lilted up the rock wall
and sang in triumph at the top --
i miss you, ganges girl

[VIII]/[IX]:
first time i knew,
second time i suspected,
finally broke me down,
now we laugh about it,
or preferably, don't bring
it up anymore

[X]:
i might still be in love with you
first and foremost, if that's how
things worked, but virginity
isn't a collateral asset, you did
me no favors,
but share in sunshine shoves
and pushes-- a beer down,
3g 'til the bottom of the bag,
alice and wonderland--
i can't watch that movie
without thinking of long hair,
self-destruction, self-deceit,
and naïveté--
you made me grow up with you,
and while you've been in college
i've been rotting.

[XI]:
i've whiled away a year of slacking words
in favor of those spouting from you torrentially.
a placeholder, for people i've written too much about already:
11.

[XII]:
unnerved me in the best of ways,
but you were always ****** up
and emptied of scruples--
had me once at your favorite album,
fooled me twice when you came back,
but you won't get another chance to
touch me

[XIII]:
snow-flakey,
corn comfort,
corn snake.
solid, supple,
untrustworthy.

[moscow]:
you spent a year abroad
so i had only one thing to call you,
and even though I brought my black
camo S&W; pocketknife,
when you told me ******
was cheaper than marijuana
in the motherland,
i knew i shouldn't
have soothed myself
into confident
complacency,
and instead
leapt from
the subaru
piled high,
tobacco-strewn,
littered by cremations
of victims before me.

[XV]:
i yawn and jaws part,
droop down lids,
the realist rendering
of a singularity in film
can't even keep me awake--
but when we get home,
and crawl into the satin
cascade of your mother's
sheets, god, i can't
even think of sleeping.
the moon was also full--
it wanes for awhile now
 Jan 2015 Makiya
Molly Westfall
They have steadily been building up
Gathering-
Strengthening in numbers.
Each buzz growing louder
Creating a deafening hum.
All of my thoughts are drowned out by the hum.
Save for you.
You are the hum.

I am the tree.
I am the leaves that swing from the branches.
I am the flowers the burst forth
From tiny buds in the spring.
You are the bees.
You are the bees that hum in the tree.
Covering every inch of green that grows
Slowly taking my life.

Like a super swarm of bees
You came to me.
You learned my limbs
As the bee learns branches.
You pollinated the tiny buds
To make them grow.
Tender.
Caring.
With love.
What an exquisite duo the tree and bee.

But now you take
All that I afford
All that I have left.
The droning never stops in my mind.
It is all consuming.
A dark sanity swallowing fog.

The buzz has changed of late.
No longer a loving hum
But a greedy one.
You **** from me my very air
And I can't breathe.
You yield from my branches
All that you once loved.
You take my nectar
And leave me stripped.
Depleted.
Naked.
Alone.

You have taken my sweet nectar.
You have stolen my sweet nature.
Left me bitter
And blue.

When summer comes to an end
And the bees slowly leave the tree
Behind
The memories will begin to fade.
The humming will grow silent.
And the burning
Reds and oranges of my pain
Will seep into my leaves.
And each will fall.
They will call it autumn.

The buzzing will stop.
Each bee compelled toward
New plenty.
You will have flown away.
And I will stand.
Trunk
And limbs.
To suffer through winter
Until the day the bees
Return to my weary
Branches.
Return to my weary branches
And love me.
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