"It does not radiate."
Annie Dark 

He looks at me with half searching eyes.
A swift nod of the head.
Too quick.
But a hug.
Too long.
Lacking in it's effort.
Meaningless to me.
Means everything to him.
I straighten my shirt.
He has never realized what he did wrong.
Does not want to.
I don't want to.
This is strange.
We are strange.
Too close,
But equally as distant.
I prefer the distance.
That is the truth.
I can never feel his truth.
It does not radiate.
                       Looks again.
    With half searching eyes.

"The black wires radiate into the air above me"
Erin Weaver 

I’m working to unwrap you slowly
To form you up like a theory
To create a habitat for you in my head
My steps grow wider when I see you at the end
Lying, lounging, an old lion
Afternoon sun low and tired
Rays and shadows streak the road like enveloping arms
As I grow closer, you project even further away
I just long to reach you
Rest my head against your bosom and
Sleep against your softness like a pile of feathers
To rest at last.

But at times I think I’ll never reach you,
As I approach you reflect even further away
I wonder that this road is endless, thinning into the distance
The black wires radiate into the air above me
Mutating my simple DNA into something else entirely
A sole purpose survivor, a solider
The cause is more desperate now
They’re buzzing to each other above my head, talking about me
Their scrutiny banging between my ears
The dust becomes a new layer of me, with incredible thirst
Just fields of dehydrated dandelions, just nothing

They soak up the liquid from everything
With their chemical and electrical waves
The fields are screeching as they shrivel up, like dying children
Now it’s all yellow, beige, and far away
It’s all so tiny against the horizon,
For all I know, your silhouette has become a statue by now
Just this long stripe of dirt I treat like a passageway
Just a ladder to a final place of rest
I’m desperate for a stop in my trudging motion
But I know I can’t lie down in this unworthy sand.

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