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L E Dow Jul 2010
Just like any other town, except the middle school is in an old strip mall, selling free education. The bank advertises a “Kalachi Festival” and nothing else, not low interest loans or free checking. The streets are lonely, but then again, it’s Sunday morning and most are at church. Where I’m headed, riding passenger, just for you. I hate riding passenger, but I’ll let you wear the pants today, I’ll stick to my fifties inspired floral skirt and clichéd pink teddy bear sweater. We arrive. Nine-thirty on the dot. Right on time, you say “I told you we wouldn’t be late.” I roll my eyes and breathe deep as I open your car door. We walk across the gravel lot to a low lying building. Church. No loud music or free coffee to hide behind. No large crowds or jumbo screens. Just people. We go into a classroom. Read from the bible. Meet people whose names I promptly forget. But that’s okay, they forget me too.
We finish on the gospel of John. And take a bathroom break, I take a while, not willing to endure the awkwardness that is sure to occur if I exit before you do. I stare at my reflection and regret my eyeliner. I’m glad I wore flats, not heels, and feel a bit overdressed to be honest. I exit, after using hand sanitizer as hand soap, realizing, then proceeding to wash my hands again. You’re talking to an elderly woman, she’s small, fragile. I hug her awkwardly, I’m terrible at meeting people. Another deep breath. Your father comes into view. What if he hates me? What if you realize you’ve made mistake? What if I accidentally say ****? ****. ****. ****. Deep breath out. Shake hands, smile and greet awkwardly, yet again. Meet Pearl and Ruby. The Two Jewels of the church. Meet Leonard. Joke with leonard, Think of my grandfather and how I should call him. Mentally punch myself in the arm. Greet your mom, get told I’m pretty, laugh, not knowing what to do.
I sit next to Alanna and the *** Smoking boyfriend, Scott. Sing. Pray. You do announcements. Everyone takes communion, Myself included. You pray, with such conviction and belief I’m confused. I put on the pious face for the congregation. Look innocent. Observe. Sing again. No instruments, only robust voices, all together. Your hand is in mine for the sermon. Finding it hard to concentrate, I notice the approximate age and décor of the church. Probably mid-late seventies. The Mauve carpet reminds me of my mother. She loved mauve in the 90’s, when it was popular. Exposed beams make it feel more like a chapel. They remind me of my church at home. There’s a choir section, making me realize it could have been another church at some point, you don’t have choirs. The sermon’s finished. Your hand has left red marks on mine, small ovals that you fuss over. We make our way out of the church. The last to leave. Following your parents home.
You lived in the country. In a wooden house that reminds me of my first house in Perry. Covered in dark wood. Your kitchen reminds me of my mother, covered in sunflowers, her favorite. You give me a quick tour.  The art that covers the walls of your home is yours and your siblings. I’m amazed. We clomp down the stairs; “they’re extra steep” you warn. Your mother’s preparing lunch. I contemplate offering to help, but don’t want to look like an *** if she says yes and I mess something up.
We retire to the living room with your father. He asks about my family. My parents, an Engineer and a Marketing Director. He asks about their expectations for me. Asks me if I live in the country, No, I reply, I live on the golf course. His eyebrows raise further. ****. I should have left that out. He thinks I’m wealthy. I’m not, neither are my parents. Mercifully we get called in for lunch. Roast, salad, corn, cantaloupe, potatoes, I love home cooking. You peer pressure me into cheesecake. Your father suggests you take me to the pond. You think twice. Taking in my shoes and skirt. We go anyways. Kiss as soon as we’re out of sight. I wish we could just lie down beneath a tree and sleep. We walk back to the house. Collect groceries and money, Even me. We go to the car. Drive away. You’re tired. So am I, we fight a little on the way back, mostly joking. We fall into bed and sleep away the morning. Which you say went well, I’m still unsure.
Copyright 2010 by Lauren E. Dow
honey Aug 2014
Its 1am and Im searching for you in the bottom of every bottle.
He's asking me about my poetry but how am I supposed to tell him that my poems are for you and I wont stop writing until Im tangled in your bed sheets for the rest of my life?
He is sweet and polite but he doesnt wrap his hands around my neck and the way you do.
There's something so tragically beautiful in the honesty slipping from my finger tips, because while he's tracing my spine I am consumed with the taste of your skin on my lips and the feeling of your hands against my hip bones.
Its 1am and im wondering if you're searching for me in the unfamiliarity of others, hoping you might smell my scent on her collarbones or feel my skin under her dress.
Out of all the boys ive kissed, you were my favourite by the way you looked me in the eyes with those hands clasped around my neck, no fear of squeezing too hard.
Its 1am and he's holding my hand but you're strangling my heart and these words are seeping out of my skin. No one makes me bleed like you
only you, always
you



alanna
honey Aug 2014
Never look into their eyes,
but stare at the space between them-
For they'll never know the difference.
****** their mind with your finger tips.
Touch their hand, chain their soul.
Clean out their closest,
but leave the skeletons on the floor.
Show them the darkness
Buried deep within their chest.
Expose the broken pieces
and place them in their hands.

Then Leave-
your scent on their sheets,
brand your words into their skin,
never touch them again.




alanna
honey Aug 2014
I know there are galaxies growing deep inside your chest
and you know how desperately I want to see them.
Your thoughts are stars I cannot fathom Into constellations.
I'm drowning in the milky way
your atmosphere is suffocating me.
You laugh
as I bury my head in your chest
because you know I will never come close
to touching you.





alanna
Lana Leandoer Mar 2016
Darling,
I want you to crave my kisses first thing in the morning.
I want nothing more than absolute happiness for you each and every day. I can only hope that in your future, there is space enough for me to love you unconditionally. Your gifts never cease to amaze me. Your every wish is my command. I do not care to live in this cruel cruel world without you in it. We met in the cosmos many millenniums ago and I shall be with no other.

From the depths of my heart,
I love you,
Alanna Renée
Lana Leandoer Dec 2014
We're not speaking.
You've got a girlfriend,
my heart is broken.
I've cried myself to sleep...
I'll continue to hide in the shadows until
it is my time.
I have unfollowed you,
so I don't hurt everyday
when I see you two together.
"Alanna, just go out and enjoy the weather."
But sadly, it's hard to feel the breeze when
my skin is numb.
I'm frozen,
shattered,
raw.
I may be dumb,
but that's why I stay.
Loving you just feels right
and wrong.
All I am sure about is how you make me feel and
for me,
that's all that matters...

— The End —