Tag: love
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They will make cities from us…by G. Mramor
And there I am, like a devil before your eyes, bouncing from lash to lash to make my way down the race of your skin and glide my fingers across your receding lips, yearning for no memory fore memory is not needed to find the trace of your beauty, like my ink through this page,…
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Stella…by G. Mramor
Beautiful that stella’s belly grows Beautiful that without warning a kiss Beautiful that makes one from two; Beautiful the little one carrying our love Beautiful the sound of your impatience Beautiful that she is you and that I am you; Beautiful these words are yours Beautiful this love is mine Beautiful this wish is hers
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True, I Liked the Romance of You.
I was afraid I’d have to come to the surface and breathe and be clean and tell the truth, that I liked the romance of you, your soft heart with all its quiet fervor that I could hold and massage in my small hands and touch my fingertips together, the thumb and the middle, feeling…
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A Certain Death. Little, But Seemingly Big. – By L. Breen
“Help me,” she said. They were not even sixty seconds out from fucking. He swore he could still feel her hipbones underneath him, undulating with him, still feel her legs pinning his to the mattress, silky, two silky shackles. She must have just shaved, like she knew she was going to meet him tonight, a…
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Love, and All Its Mutations – By L. Breen
On the topic of sex, all that I was told by my mother was that there is a difference between having sex and making love, which, to her credit, turned out to be quite accurate. Others I know were confronted with statistics, Prevention Method B versus Prevention Method C, with Prevention Method A (“The Big…
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The Bell Tower by L. Breen
On cold winter Sundays, between sermons, he liked to climb up to the top of the bell tower. He bundled himself up in his winter gear, always sure to include the matching hat and scarf set that a parishioner had knit for him, and made his way up the old wooden ladder. When he first…
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Love…by G. Mramor
Love
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Dream of you…by G. Mramor
: you can sleep here tonight
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Snapshot – Short Story by L. Breen
All of her family photos are amateur in the purest, most endearing sense, characterized by eyes squinted shut and flies shamelessly unzipped, and although the background may change – the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, the Lincoln Memorial — the photos come in only two standard compositions: her standing beside her mother and her standing beside…
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The Sailor’s Lover – Poem by P Chatelain
The Sailor’s Lover She climbed the humid, water-beaten coastline As she did every Thursday
