1:33 A.M. by MELISSA FRY BEASLEY I'm awake Thinking about the shape of the feel of building the need of your tempting lips. Would they be hummingbirds hovering the languid temptation of a...
Archives: Blog
Sycophant by MELISSA FRY BEASLEY We are all broken bits left over from some end, doorways leading to empty rooms. We run while we wait for something to move, everyday a barter of quench and...
Where Wild Violets Grow by MYRYN VILLAFLOR There's something nostalgic about dimly-lit roads and faded footpaths, rickety lamp posts and over-shadowing tree trunks, as though, they exude...
Labyrinthine by BRIANNA ROSE BURTON The moon's deathly grip challenges the hue, its dew embellishes languor, the heart, a labyrinthine lilt. Yet I, ineffable, incipient at my longing to live,...
The Lifesong Maze by BRIANNA ROSE BURTON Let me tell you where the life song goes, to a valley where its beauty grows, to a mountain where its soft wind blows, the journeyer who sweet path...
For Emma by LAUREN GABRIELLE-JAYNE Pick your poison. Amber, debris of arsenic; watching eye of wisteria; intent gaze, an azure royal. Flitting about, oh, so softly, quiet, as if fallen from...