i used to believe that love was a lie
but it's not
i used to cry for its lack, but it is -
it's just lost
i folded in love, i sunk so many stories

still, love's not all stories
it's heat and it's hot and it's
summer
then it's gone
with my tears after 2 am -
the time that i thought
about the miles between us, and the
inches between love and lust

no, it was love, i know that it was,
but it fell, it
collapsed on papery limbs
like a 17-year old girl does
when it fought

Being with you is like
Touching a hot stove
I like to feel the burn
Even though it hurts

An angel came to me in a dream once
An angel with a thousand eyes
And it glowed like a thousand suns
A pulsating heat
A fluctuating fire that burned everything in reach
When it spoke
A wave had washed over my body
Drenching me
Drowning me in a feeling I did not understand
It had asked me what my name was
And when I answered
It disappeared.

Once
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

Once when her kisses were fire incarnate
and left in their imprint bright lipstick, and flame,
when her breath rose and fell over smoldering dunes,
leaving me listlessly sighing her name . . .

Once when her ******* were as pale, as beguiling,
as wan rivers of sand shedding heat like a mist,
when her words would at times softly, mildly rebuke me
all the while as her lips did more wildly insist . . .

Once when the thought of her echoed and whispered
through vast wastelands of need like a Bedouin chant,
I ached for the touch of her lips with such longing
that I vowed all my former vows to recant . . .

Once, only once, something bloomed, of a desiccate seed—
this implausible blossom her wild rains of kisses decreed.

Published by The Lyric, Writer’s Journal, Grassroots Poetry, Tucumcari Literary Journal, Unlikely Stories, Poetry Life & Times. Keywords/Tags: kisses, fire, incarnate, lipstick, dunes, *******, heat, lips, breath, sighs, passion, desire, lust, ***, bachelorhood, recanted

Sun scorching, sweltering, sizzling beach

My hardened soles resist the heat

Sunglasses shielding my eyes

White cotton ball clouds glide

Along deep blue skies

But I’m blue too

Intensely

Missing

You



© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.

the smokey memories of Summer
fan on high, combatting heat waves
hair glued to the forehead from sweaty laughter
on the phone for one, two, three many hours
always laughing

but now the sticky fire is gone
noses are runny and temples are cold
dry knuckles chafe against a keyboard wanting to smell the same laundry detergent from a Summer back in time
drying eyes redden as rivers flow into the scorching season
a wet upper lip trembles at time lost
hours on the phone, or lying in bed alone?
always trembling

It’s at 3 am
when I imagine you.
Your hands, the way you move them
around my body, roaming through.
Your voice makes me go weak,
my legs trembling at each word.
I have been like this for a week.
The way you’ve got me is absurd.