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Robert McQuate Jan 2023
Do you remember?
When we laughed so hard,
That I lost a contact?
That little jig you did started me chuckling,
My snorts got you to join in,
My ribs hurt the next day.

Do you remember?
When I told you that I first loved you,
And you kept me in suspense?
Later on, you told me that you felt the same when I said it,
But was scared that it was too soon for you to vocalize it too,
But to be honest I wanted to tell you on our second date.

Do you remember?
When you first seemed to read my mind,
And told me exactly what was going on in my brain?
I was furious with your father,
And I wanted to snap him in two,
You just looked at me with your hypnotic green eyes,
And told me to breath,
Rubbing my shoulders as you did so.

Do you remember?
That first pregnancy scare,
Where we didn't know what we were going to do?
We were in your car,
Outside that convention we were volunteering at,
And that talk laid the groundwork for what we would eventually have to go through.

Do you remember?
Our first kiss,
Upon that restaurant roof?
Slow dancing to Tyler Childers,
Playing through the tinny speakers of a phone,
On that warm sunny day in June.
Zywa Jan 2023
The Knitting Needles Museum
has a prudish name
that frightens the schoolchildren
and obscures the oppression
of desperate and ***** women

The torture museum
and the war museum also
lack the inspiration
from a muse
They are monuments

and should be called that
With the unbuilt museums
of destroyed art and
ancient cultures, they can
fill a street in any city

'Ecce ****', behold man
the noble beast, the master
of things and nothings -
virtual and vanished
worlds that are unlivable
Collection "PumicePieces"
Faith Jan 2023
A too-warm new year January afternoon
Holds the same sun as April's evening at 12 years old
The scent of gentle pink roses
Is a cool shower in the summer before high school
A new-to-me videogame console
Is sophomore year's ignored chemistry homework
My eyes and ears and nose and hands
Contain memories I did not mean to make
They store moments that take me back to times
That were insignificant in my mind
A childhood filled with life and experience
That I seem to keep reliving, despite my unintention
But I hold no complaints in my heart
As I know that one day, these words will provide the same feeling
I will look back on poems written while pushing grocery carts
And think to myself, what a pleasure to live in a time capsule
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2022
I was glass
You were wood

Picture frame perfect

I found in you the vibrance I was missing to display a beautiful picture

I looked empty before you
Transparent

As we grew older I learned to depend on you more and more

I stood in your stable embrace

Without your arms lack the strength to keep my thin figure upright

We were useless by ourselves

Together captured a moment to remember forever

It seems so pointless without a photo to reserve each priceless memory
A picture is worth a thousand words
Zywa Nov 2022
She could not look: did

those love scenes on the hay-loft --


ever happen or not?
"The Satanic Verses" ("De duivelsverzen" / "Die satanischen Verse", 1988, Salman Rushdie), III. L-O-N-D-O-N, §2

Collection "Low gear"
Juhlhaus Nov 2022
I take the same and different ways
returning to these streets I thought I knew.
Scent memories come in warm layers,
comforting until they cling, and I think
too long about the shadows
stretching behind, before
the city lights became so familiar, but
clarity depends on distance, on when
in motion the lines converge
and the shapes fade to almost nothing,
only to merge and re-emerge
with each step forward, back to you.
sofolo Oct 2022
Your ivory
Was devouring
First as a smirk
Then a ploy
Grazing a nape
I was your boy

“When will I
See you again?”
You said
“C’mon over”
I replied
So you made the drive

We were lovers
s o m e t i m e s

A birthday card
Now gathering dust
In a bin
I often think
Of what could
Have been

To have your teeth
Grasping my
Whole being
And your
Primal scent
In my nose
Lingering

“When will I
See you again?”
. . . I wonder . . .

Knowing the answer
Is never will we be
More than a secret
Every bead of sweat
Locked up in memory
Safe from your faith
Safe from your family

Which makes me
Sigh
And cry
And die
A little inside

This is purgatory

Your purple satin
Slipped through
My fingers like the
Sands of time

s e v e n
years
since
you
disappeared

And still a part of you
Is always on my mind
‎تذكرني
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