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Logan Robertson Jun 2018
She may not have been your prototype teen or hiree.
Or of the masses. Or herd.
However, she did walk into a McDonald's
approach the counter
emit an esoteric exchange for help with the cashier
and with knowing eyes
the cashier directed her to the starting gate.
Now
with application in hand
and blue ribbons in her eyes
she was off to the horse races,
nervousness riding on her shoulders.
In my eyes, she was a longshot to win,
where I could see her shoes falling off
before the race started.
And her imaginary jockey falling off her horse
from laughing so hard,
for she presented herself through the restaurant
and a job interview with a Starbucks frappe,
totally oblivious of her unwrapping.
It would be like turning up for a Yankee's job
in a Red Sox outfit.
Who would do this?
As the rubberneckers, I looked on.
Incredulous.
She took her seat at a vacant table
carrying her youth awkward.
Her looks of brown hair, eyes, and raw innocence
complimentary.
But those jeans, high risers, with holes in the knees
with a white Bebe shirt that hugged her shape
shouted trendy but not job interview.
Oh, my.
She continued the procession
extracting info from her phone
and filling out her application.
No doubt with votive candles at her side
and prayers on her lips.
And perhaps blue ribbons awaiting.
After all, this was her foot in the door.
It was at this time
I had an epiphany moment
tears welling in my eyes
as I slipped on hamburger choices
and sipped on past life on a teether,
totally oblivious, too.
It was like looking in the mirror.
Her youth and awkwardness and my growing decadence
towards the light.
When the manager came in and summoned her
to the interview table,
which was located in the dining room,
I saw a little kitten purr inside of her,
where her eyes nervously checked her surroundings.
At first introduction,
the reddening blush on her face and Adam's apple
stood pronounced
but her low voice was choked.
Almost inaudible.
As the manager put her calming hands
into hers
the light turned on
all foreboding escaping.
All misplaces and tense faces replaced with aces.
This was a defining moment for her,
as the golden arches braced her feet,
making all the rubberneckers, me, proud.

Logan Robertson

6/6/2018
Monica Mourad Feb 20
Tall dark and handsome
Kind brown eyes that held mine
Eyes that shined with false promises
A smile laced with uncertainty
Kisses filled with venom that fogged my mind

I was your muse  
My laughter a song that warmed your heart.
My endless well of comfort was  your sweet escape
My aura a confusing craving you couldn’t  understand

You kept me tethered to you
To lose me meant losing your smile
Keeping me would not leave you satisfied

A charming prince turned into a Puppeteer
A princess turned puppet
Strings laced in confusion and uncertainty
Replaced the warm caresses and sweet kisses

Refusing to be tethered by fickle charm
She pulled back despite the hurt
She’s a princess after all
You were never a prince -
Just a puppeteer looking for a puppet
hindsignt is 20/20
Gulishta May 2018
You pull me up,
        When I let you down.
I'm the one who float,
        You bring me to the ground.
You are better than me,
        You make me better.
You put us back together,
        Everytime when  I shatter.
I'm the one guilty,
         You are the one who plead.
I'm evolving,
         You are the one who succeed.
I have desire for the wings,
         You are my teether without any string.
You make me stronger,
          When I make you weak.
You are a part of me,
          Without me you can't exist.
I'm understanding,
           You are the depth.
I'm the words ,
            You are the strength.
You are everything,
            That I need and want to have.
CataclysticEvent Jan 2019
I drown in
The weight of
My own longing.

Reaching for,
Grasping at,
The silk teether,
Of my own desire.

— The End —