that is your own
by Gabor G. Gyukics during tail-wind the headwind pushes you back only the motion remains your body is searching for the gap your eyes are
whose face it is
by Gabor G. Gyukics the mirror shows a different picture every day the flame shooting out from the fireplace is counting the new arrivals the
it cares not what you’ll become
by Gabor G. Gyukics a cigarette smoulders with you together the wind comes in to fetch the smoke looks around what else there is to take but
Blue Fruit
by Manoli Kouremetis I take your hand, say “soon” — how many times have I said “soon” trapped in traffic and doctors’ waiting rooms? If only I
Abducted Friends
by Manoli Kouremetis Like a ransomer’s note — my memories of you and I squish against one another. Mismatched letters of sentences ill-fitting —
Terrarium
by Nancy A. Henry Piety, New moon, stingy-petaled single rose, full blown, you’ve gone straight from maid to crone. Let us moisten the moss for