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 Dec 2011 Aubrey
emily m
infinitely flexible, malleable
in every way imaginable;
sprinkled in magic with a taste that can

2. complicatesimplifyconfuseand
clarify;

3. a compass with which castle crafters
map their masterpieces, built from layers of
similes and metaphors and symphonies of sound,
of memories and apologies and everything bound;

4. a reel of delicate threads which
fervently await a seamstress of words to
weave them together;


*impressionable when you don’t mean it,
fleeting when you do.
 Dec 2011 Aubrey
emily m
secure
 Dec 2011 Aubrey
emily m
You are my anchor
Through the storms that threaten to
Pull me out to sea.
 Dec 2011 Aubrey
emily m
letters form words form sentences

mean nothing. what is

ink to paper

cursor to crater, take a

matchstick to bluffing -

blowing language of ethanol

from the mouth of a traitor;


empty english played weighted

spit low and stuck,

leave scars and scuffing and

i was never enough.
 Mar 2011 Aubrey
kali ma
It's good to be an ugly gal.
No one man will ever hold the door,
or dare to call me a *****.

Having a sober conversation,
knowing no man is never looking to score.
Having a drunk conversation ,
knowing he is ready to do me on the very same floor.

I master my detective skills,
finding out about all of his side thrills

Acquiring medical degrees,
when he confesses what those warts may be.

Becoming a priestess, through Vedic *** tricks
hoping he falls in love through his stick

Most of all a sense of humor,
because what pretty girl could write this sick?
 Mar 2011 Aubrey
Samuel Francis
I sat in a room full of unlucky souls.
Waiting to hear the sound of something pure
something worth hearing.
Then a small blonde headed boy
ran towards me and said
"what do you do"
and I realized
I couldn't answer him
My youth was my biggest achievement to date
how pathetic.
He reminded me of that.
Copyright Samuel Francis
 Mar 2011 Aubrey
Phil Stewart
Living life in muted means.
You know he's bursting at the seams,
suddenly.

Pressed too close to a strangers face.
Wishing for an open space,
nobody.

Staring at a fashion window.
Seeing what he can't be into,
achingly.

He doesn't have a thing to say.
Praying questions stay away,
silently.

Sneaking out the exit badly.
No-one loves him as madly.
Awkward.
Copyright © 2011, Phil Stewart. All rights reserved.
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