six million
Jews
six million
souls
six million
dreamers
six million
storytellers
six million
innocents
six million
fathers
six million
daughters
six million
mothers
six million
sons
six million
laughers
six million
singers
six million
dancers
six million
Jews
murdered
by one speck of
hate.

I
He was intoxicated
by the scent of coffee
dancing in the morning
to his mother’s humming.
II
Then a blacksmith - his father -
taught him how to hammer
form out of chaos
in the muddle of force
and a sweaty anvil.
III
Now if he wished to see
the sunness of the sun
and the greenness of the tree
he would summon the image
of Fatma - an Arab maiden
who was once Berber,
to come write on his face
with her soothing finger:
“Salam, my anguished lover.”
IV
When green-eyed Fatma comes
the wreaths of coffee
Would come with her,
writing in the air;
and all the songs of history
would come marching too,
in battle array,
like an army dressed
in civilian clothing
for a dance in Rio.
V
Fatma’s hair –
a still cascade
of light goldness,
a tide of watery fire,
a flight motionless
of a millon birds who
sing in tongues
and laugh
to the stone unlettered
of his fidgety cenotaph.

© LazharBouazzi, Carthage, TUN

Her breath forms beautiful icicles on the blood-stained window, her pale body lays in horrifying grace

Sunk in cheeks
Charcoal eyes
Her soul empty
gone.
Nothings left.

She feels only a slight tug as his fist curves into her fragile skull once again, smashing her petite figure into the window.

shatter
the beautiful icicle is exploded into a millon pieces and so the glass.

As her tired face hits the window sil
You can almost feel the break of her jaw as it crushes beneath the weight of his tremendous blow.

Her eyes are still open

But she is now completely gone

The last of her life shattered away with the icicle formed by her last breath.

v.v

R ight there for me
H onest with me
I love her and wanna be with her
A n it hurts but idc
N othing will separate us
N ever in
O ne millon years
N ice to know she dont like me

Hey guys!
I know you don't really care but today's my birthday!!!
I'm 13 now,not 12.
Thank you guys,it's been a good year,I couldn't have made it with oh you guys.
:-D  thanks a Millon!
The freakin 13 year old,
-Evie Camille Wills

You're doing your best
To make my life a hell of a mess.
Personal maid I  never hired.
You dont need breaks, your weak bones don't get tired.
You put more dirt on every floor,
Spit on dishes,mop away my hidden wishes.
Throw out pages of all I am,every shred out the door,
Into the wind and out into night,Goodbye pages,forever out of sight.
You try so hard to make my life hell,
You're doing your worst,I can tell.
You're the personal guard I never hired
Never had a chance to say your fired.
You pull me away from fights,just to start them.
You don't love my needs,you depart them.
You don't end all things bad,
Just start all things worse.
Why such a person did I deserve?
A person with lies that holds no words!
Try as you might to tear my spirit down,
I'll always wear a smile,you'll always wear a frown.
Try as you might to burn my house down,
A Millon torches can't set a spark to a mansion below the ground.
Try as you might,pull me out of light, take my sight,
I'll still have everything you stole,this praise I carry you shall never know.
So drop my dishes!
It'll give me a chance to sweep away the dirt.

Felt the ghost of your kisses on my neck
As I danced with your silhouette
To cigarettes after ***

It was late
But we were drunk on love' and wine
And
I laughed as your soft breath tickled my ear as you whispered sweet nothings

As the night sky got darker
You held onto me like you never wanted to let go
But when I tried to hold onto you
Your form combusted in a millon tiny fragments and dissipated into thin air
And I was left clutching onto emptiness

Eyes glazed over with dreams
I cried tears of remembrance
With a wine glass in my hand
I danced with your silhouette.

"Mi unicornio azul ayer se me perdió",
Asi dice la canción, que desapareció.
"Y aunque tuviera dos, yo solo quiero aquel
Cien mil o un millon yo pagaré"

Si te contara de mi unicornio azul
Deberia especificar que él aún sigue aquí
Que no ha decidido irse, que no desapareció.
Te digo que es único, que solo lo quiero a él.

Al contarte de mi unicornio azul
Te abriera las puertas a mi corazón.
Te dijera que mi mayor miedo es
Tener que ser yo la que cante
"Se me ha perdido ayer, se fue".

Te hablara de sus ojos azules y piel clara.
Te contara de nuestros mejores momentos,
la mayoría durante mi infancia.
Te explicara que por él conocí Unicornio Azul
Y por el temo vivir lo que expresa la canción.

My bride, allow me to proclaim my love as I undress you on this evening of moons and honey,

You are my absolute treasure. I am eternally fond of your gift, enclosed within your royal case. May I kiss you, gently? I would kiss you again and again and again, each kiss like the last. You are my fire. Yet, how calm feels the curve of your chin, gently supporting your warm mirage.
How I’ve craved the scent of your neck; daring, enticing, rewarding. Every article, every depression, every depth of your spine, I count as they burn through my fingertips. If I could only reach inside and examine you with the fullness of my hands. Your ribs, my lady, when God gave Eve Adam’s, He gave you mine. My ribs and my heart reside within you. I’d kiss every bone and every *****.

Come to the bed I’ve prepared for us.

You lay, exposed; your curvatures as ***** as mountains; firm yet delicate, earthly yet heavenly, humanly yet godly.
The summits on your mountaintops tear through my passions and bleed into my manhood. What pleases you? Can you sing for me? May I remove your underwear? The white lace, gently pressed between my teeth falls, revealing a dancing pearly rose. Her fragrance demanded one millon butterfly kisses. My lovely, tasty bride, keep flowing for me. I yearn for your honey. I treasure your garden of unspeakable fruits.

The secret ingredient …[the bird sings.. and sings… and sings…] …. is love.

Oh my love, my costly gold treasure, I want to know you, to learn you, to nourish you, feed you, to feel you, … to plant my seed in you and to explore every corner inside you. Every corner that makes you vulnerable. Every corner that makes you weak. Every corner that makes you pleasure. The skies will envy the milk we make. I love you. Know that I am yours forever and I belong to you. May this night ever be imbedded in the memories of our sworn covenant. May the vulnerabilities of your womanhood ever spill their warm secrets. May your moistened cave being relief to the pressure of my manhood. May they learn of each other; how my lips learn of your lips, and how my body learns of yours.

“I am yours and you are mine” we whisper.

You are the never ending taste of sweet valentine. You are sweeter than molasses from your toes to your head, from your fingers to mine, from my fist into your cave. Would you care to spare more of your lovely juices?
My obedient wife, I will elevate you. I will explore your ridges until I draw you a map with my eyes closed. I will lead us to the Circle of Full Moons. And when we arrive, we shall seal our love with a milky kiss from your watered flowers.

— Slev 1.20.22