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 Sep 2018 MicMag
JL Smith
Today,
It's worth letting you
Borrow my heart
So, you can feel
What it's like
To love yourself
The way I do

© JL Smith
 Sep 2018 MicMag
EP Robles
while F was pointing its two accusing fingers to its right U bent towards her middle wishing alpha bet higher wages and C being blind always kept its mouth opened for the rare change beggars threw at it because K always loves to kick the air with its tight stocked legs.  
    Characters all of them!

:: 09-12-2018 ::
alpha bet on the loser
 Sep 2018 MicMag
zen
A Sovereign Sun
 Sep 2018 MicMag
zen
Love is the greatest force of all mankind...
of all cosmos, of all movement
of all that is wild and deranged
held safe in a locket, clandestine,
casually singing reigning from clouds of rain
sonnets of seismic sound sway trees
encouraging sodded fields grow greener than yesterday
yet sprightly and anew
soon
nudging the node
of the naysayers neighing,
bulging out their blue button ups
cramping, beastly belly's brooding to feast
on the blooming young,
the callow of a courageous continuum
trooping along gaily with gallantry
on trails, heralding gnarled roots

but this is rhythm
and rhythm is rhyme
and rhyme reconciles reasoning
"i love you for no other reason
but i love you"
says the tales of two
seeking singularity,
soaking in the sauna of one,
sovereign sun.
"i love you for no other reason but i love you"
 Sep 2018 MicMag
sophie mechaune
The seams of my soul yearn for
forever
Yet the stitches tire as they hold together
through the cuts of inconsistency
as love changes form and passes repeatedly

I guess I sew myself too tightly
to hearts that view
forever
more lightly
 Sep 2018 MicMag
S Rose
Scorching was the color of toil,
As my feet carried me to and fro
And my hands carried the weight of service,
And my heart begging to be let go.

Alas, through the doors, a drifting breeze,
Filled with aromas, never before known,
And the cool colors of misty blues,
Instantly to her, all eyes were sewn.

I was greeted with the brightest smile,
Colors of a warm sunny hue,
But mystery shrouded her rosey cheeks,
A girl like her takes a table for two.

Yet there she sat, her company a book,
Although her eyes wandered often astray,
Most often at times, meeting mine in passing,
Lonely, they seemed to ask me to stay.

The words I wished I had spoken were left,
As a language conveyed through gestures,
And before I knew she was floating away,
Reminiscent of a distant messenger.

My eyes followed her step by step,
Off to the distant lapping of waves.
Shyly she joined, her soles with the water
She became one of the gifts God gave.

As I watched her blossom under the summer sky
Those deep colored eyes turned to me,
They said that she had no needs any longer,
And I seemed to know we would never be.

And she danced with the waves,
And the waves danced at her feet,

And she played in the sun,
And the sun played with her hair,

And her hair framed her face,
As the delicate portrait of nature’s beauty.
 Sep 2018 MicMag
Nupur Chowdhury
It’s good, but not what we’re looking for right now.
Oh, but it stings. And how!
The position’s closed, better luck next time
Your lips are bruised purple from that smile.

We loved it, but it doesn’t fit with our current line-up
You take a bitter sip of the salty tea-cup.
It’s good, dear, just not for me
You nod, you understand, ‘cause it ever is.

Your throat stings from not screaming loud enough,
Frustration the itch of a swallowed cough.
You’ve heard it a hundred times, and yet the hundred-and-first
Burns like every regret thrice reimbursed.

But while they wound, they aren’t nearly as bad,
As the radio silence of indifference ironclad.
Refreshed inboxes and double-checked call logs tell
The sordid tale of a dream drowning in the wishing well.

Vacancies disappear and resumes languish
Receptionists pout in parodied anguish.
It’s never you, it’s always them,
It’s never you’re-not-good-enough, it’s always not-the-right-fit.

It’s all the same, yet unique every time
Nobody’s got a minute, but asking’s not a crime.
It’s self-flagellation with a calling card
We don’t give a ****, best regards.

Your name’s not on this list, or the next one
And yet you walk, ‘cause you can’t outrun
The ghost of a dream, of a hope long gone
Of finding the happily-ever-after in life’s lexicon.
 Sep 2018 MicMag
Alfredo Ron
Am I the lost coin,
the lost sheep,
the prodigal returning,
the road in need of straightening,
the valley to be raised?

Or am I just dross
to come off
the gold and silver polished,
the ruin to demolish,
the chaff that blows away?
 Sep 2018 MicMag
Sehar Bajwa
mathematical
incompatibility;
a SYNTAX ERROR
star crossed lovers
fate decreed our distance
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