once i met a mirror-boy. i remember him appear on a dull afternoon in january all covered in blue; just like the sun at this time of the year. as hands he had silver-lakes so deep that they could hide a million dreams and unspoken thoughts and so they did. i secretly wanted him to drown me in those lakes but of course he never did. a night, i got audacious. while he was asleep, i tried to take off his gloves; he always wore **** leather gloves so people like me would not get tempted to dive in, you see. most people were so blinded by the gloves that they forgot what they were supposed to hide. unlike others, i was blinded by his hands. since the day i saw the silver-blue tinge, i had been profoundly infatuated by the thought of what lay beneath the surface. the desire grew inside of me as thousands of japanese cherry flowers and i yearned to fill my lungs with frigid water; but my ardent breath woke him up. for a minute or so, we were quiet. we just sat as marble statues. he tried to reach for something in my eyes; he tried to seek the truth. perhaps he wanted to know why i freely wanted to drown myself but i never got to know. i never asked him just like he never asked me why i wanted to take off his gloves. he knew i never meant to steal anything and i stopped trying to take off his gloves while he was asleep.

for a long time i did not speak of it because i wanted to forget. but on a foggy day in march, it occurred to me that i would never manage to forget the silver-blue tinge; it haunted me in my dreams, it haunted me when i was cooking, it haunted me when i was humming, it haunted me every single time i looked at him and he knew. he did not speak of it either because he was well aware of the consequences that followed. he never told me the consequences but as time went on i discovered them by myself. i told him that i did not care about consequences but he just shook his head in response. later, i found out that he did not want to pull me down his gloomy remembrance; he did not want me to get burned by the orange sorrow inside of him. i felt miserable; i wanted him to know that we were supposed to share every little detail of our concerns; every unthinkable corner of our fragile minds we were supposed to tell each other. i poured out my soul and cried purple blood whenever the opportunity arose; he just sat down and listened to me until my words became silent and then he kissed stars on my ribcage and left circles on the back of my hands as a reminder of his beautiful words. i wanted to reciprocate; i wanted to kiss stars on his ribcage but every time i tried he pushed me away and i never quite understood why.

once i met a mirror-boy. as hands he had silver-lakes so deep that they could hide a million dreams and unspoken thoughts and so they did. i secretly wanted him to drown me in those lakes but of course he never did. why did i call him mirror-boy you might ask? you see, the one time i caught a glimpse of his left hand, i saw a reflection in the silver-lake; the reflection had lightly moon-kissed skin and reminded me of fresh air. she seemed familiar but i could not think of why. perhaps it was her giggly face. japanese cherry flowers bloomed inside of my bones. i blinked and then she was gone. desperately, i looked for her in the silver-blue water but i could not find her. i did not understand - where has she gone? in my search for her, i met a pair of tender male-eyes. they were warm enough to melt all thinkable sorrows away although they were as ice-blue as the bottom of the silver-lake.

that was when i realised.

*(k.w)

We walked together
along the roadside,
toward the end of our existence
holding hands
catching sparkles in our eyes.

You lavished me,
spoke to me
in Alsace accent,
smiled & I
inhaled your breath,
wanted to taste,
to hold onto you forever
& I could not.

You waved to me
from the
last window on the bus,
then disappeared
into the rising sun,
left me
all alone
with only
the memory of your fragrance
to comfort me.

Finis.

The battles are over. Blood has been shattered on all territories. The kaleidoscope reflects the broken dreams of the refugees. I do not wish to remain in this place. The complexity in the surroundings imbibes a negative vibe in my soul and corrupts my lungs. The weight of living is breaking my bones. My imaginative capabilities seem to vanish in the haze with the smoke coming out from chimneys. The heat around is bringing things to an end. We are parting ways. I'm standing at crossroads neither side will take me to a better place. The juvenile existence of a paradoxical levity brought us back again. I'm sitting in this cold room, torpid in one corner. A ray of light coming in through a hole in the wall and reflecting all the dust in me, in my thoughts. I'm trying to fathom the reason of existence if these entities and writing with a pen stolen from my masters chamber. But all I wanted to do was spill red ink all over the axioms.

As time quickly approaches
On the planed escape
Gunther smuggles the files in
While Mildred bakes the cake

But that doesn't much matter
For our two on the run
In all the confusion
The oven was never turned on

So they slipped out the front door
When Gladys the receptionist was gone
Out for her morning coffee
And cigarette on the lawn

They made it as far as the sidewalk
As far as the authorities could tell
When they both turned around
Before their bladders gave out

They need a new plan of escape
One that can be followed with ease
Before it's to late
Since they're both weak in the knees

Our hero's will have to wait another day
For their chance at freedoms song
For now they'll hang up their walkers
And devise another plan on getting gone

It was a heated night of Bingo
When Gunther got the idea
They'd go out with the wash
In a basket both hid

So they packed up their dentures
Along with their Poly Grip
As both of them readied
For their laundry trip

Now in the back of the truck
Rolling down 95
Same age as our escapee's
If you care to count time

They later hijacked the truck
When the driver they sacked
Now they travel life's highway
With nothing but the wind to their back

What We Are: by Dakota Pizzi

Have you ever wondered how the wind howls through the trees?
Or why the leaves tremble in the breeze?
Theres no use to wonder,
No rhyme or reason too.
It just makes sense like me and you.

And 'though the cold winds comin down,
The snow is burying us in.
I know the sun will shine again,
Just like it always did.

Its like asking why the sunshines as it comes over the hill,
Or why the earth moves slowly at its own will.
Theres no way to calculate,
Its just meant to be,
Thats why you belong with me.

We are the wind speaking through the trees,
We are the sun coming up to please,
Theres no reason to wonder why we are what we are, its the way its meant to be,
Yes, it's the way its meant to be.

Gone.
G-O-N-E,
Four letters that represent the hurt
In me,
Cold cold rain , don't care if it don't feel so nice
When everything it touches
Is already made of ice
You left me empty,
An abandoned house on a sketchy corner,
Cracked sidewalks running down the boulevards of
My heart
Gone,
And my life ain't ever coming back.
Oh, stand me on a pedestal,
I'm made of marble, pale and smooth,
I won't break when you drop me - ha!
That's a lie, just like the tears in your eyes
When you said goodbye - gone.