She had a way of looking at you after one too many pegs
Her stare far too focused for someone so blazed on spirits
One hand reaching out almost to grab your face
But you realise what she's seeking for doesn't exist in the physical realm
Her hand grips your face now
Gently
Until you feel her nails slowly slicing down your ear
Your neck feels hot as her deft fingers slip inside
Her eyes locked on yours soothing any pain you should be feeling
Her hand going deeper inside you
Dodging artery nerves and pushing aside your muscles
Only to clasp on your voice box
You move your mouth in protest but no words escape
And as you blink in horror, her hand is gone
Your own reaches up to check the wound but there is none
"What....the..****?"
The words slip out with surprising ease
You weren't expecting this
You look at her in confusion
Trying to search her face for an answer she refuses to disclose
After 5 minutes of silence she sighs
"I couldn't find the words to explain how I feel about you. So I wanted some of yours instead."
Her face is closer now, her hand back to cradling your face
You brace for another invasion but what you feel is the unexpected touch of her lips against yours
They tasted so good you decided to give in
Maybe she wasn't the one high on spirits
Maybe it was you
Maybe you just imagined it all
"I want you"

I sit in the garden
Legs crossed, eyes closed
The sounds of nature flow around me
In an intangible stream
A chirping bird, a trickling creek flows by the roses
Yesterday's rains drip through the vines
I raise my hands up to an imaginary crown
Envisioning myself as a ruler without a frown
Daisies bloom from my palms
Orchids from my moss-green beard
I'll lay in the grasses from sun-up
Sharing stories with the weeds, the sprouts, the dandelions
I inhale the fresh air
Close my eyes once more
And let my daydreams lead me further
Into my kingdom of trees

The stars sparkle like
LED lights
Hung upon the walls of a celestial dorm
A college student in the skies
studies the small creatures below
She writes her essays on myths
that humans told long ago
Her professor grades the paper
judging not on fact, but on prose
Classmates chat in the halls
About classes, about dating, about parties
But the lunar lady continues watching
with a cautious eye
As we go about our daily lives

Every Man Has a Dream
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

Every man has a dream that he cannot quite touch...
a dream of contentment, of soft, starlit rain,
of a breeze in the evening that, rising again,
reminds him of something that cannot have been,
and he calls this dream love.

And each man has a dream that he fears to let live,
for he knows: to succumb is to throw away all.
So he curses, denies it and locks it within
the cells of his heart and he calls it a sin,
this madness, this love.

But each man in his living falls prey to his dreams,
and he struggles, but so he ensures that he falls,
and he finds in the end that he cannot deny
the hope that he feels or the tears that he cries
in the darkness of night for this light he calls love.

Keywords/Tags: Man, Dream, Love, Vision, Fantasy, Aspiration, Hope, Sin, Madness, Cell, Prison, Real, Reality, Touch, Tangible, Contentment, Comfort, Consolation, Prey, Trapped, Snared, Prisoner, Captive, Hope, Fears, Tears, Elusive, Elusiveness