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 Nov 2020 Ann Delorme
caroline
pony-tailed playmate
head tucked in her shirt
gazing steadily down
at her toes in the dirt

chaos tiptoes around her
naive oblivion
journeys in far away lands
just west of the meridian

watercolor fairy tales
bleeding outside the lines
unaware of the danger
unaware of the signs

let me sit with you, darling
in the dampened flower beds
and paint a new world
for us in our heads
 Oct 2020 Ann Delorme
Carmen Jane
My fangs grew overnight
And when I tried to hide my smile
It poked my lower lip
From it, a bit of blood dripped,
It tasted sweet.

I walked over arched bridges at night
The ones, that mold around the moon light,
My fangs were longing for a match
To graze your lips, your mouth to touch.
On you, to latch.

The knock woke me from my deep sleep,
I heard some kids say trick or treat,
I realized it's Halloween!
I gathered candy from under my couch
I didn't need my plastic fangs
I had my own and the costume matched.
I am haunted:
Not by poltergeist,
but by my unlived lives.
Parallel universes
won't ever speak,
they took an oath
to keep from me.
I have words and voices
humming in my head
that will never be met
outside of my bed.
I have to accept
I cannot have it all,
I have to accept
knowing nothing at all.

— The End —