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 Jul 2018 grace
Timothy Kenda
I lie awake, some nights
Silent music in my head turns down such a sad alleyway, and it's dark there
But really I can be happy most of the time, I swear, just give me time
Preferably during the daylight hours
Protected from the memories that climb through picture frames on the borderlines of sleep
The smoke on the bedroom walls won't ever leave
And I'm so sick of my mind playing tricks
Letting me fall into playing the game
The one where I find myself guessing at things that won't ever be
I can be alright, at least most of the time
When I'm not, that's fine too, I'll get by and get through
But in the confines of bedroom walls at midnight
It's hard to lie and say I don't miss you
 Jul 2018 grace
Yves C Sutherland
star flecks scratch cloudscape,
amber moon, scalded milk sky:
a night after snow
/
i fear darkness, dust,
air itself; space means farewell, means
i am alive and thus alone
/
the flowers are gray
as hearts forging fallow moons
we die: seasons change
/
So find the time— the
thing you do, the why you’re here—
that is life giving
/
run straight into the deep
where moonlight cuts colors
on the sea

— The End —