Aubrey was confronted by her mom in the kitchen as she was making her lunch for school the next day. "Two sandwiches?" her mom questioned. "What's up with that, Aubrey? Since when do you eat more than one sandwich?" Actually Aubrey ate well. It was always a healthy lunch for her, perhaps a sandwich with some lettuce and tomato on it, or something cooked and leftover. She rarely indulged in sweet snacks, like her brother and sister did, never going without a couple pieces of fruit in her bag.  

Audrey was a freshman in high school, and she was a forthright girl. There was no need to hide anything, so  she replied nonchalantly, "It's not for me. It is for Wade Hodak. He doesn't have a sandwich in his lunch".

With her hands on her hips, Audrey's mom smelled something fishy. Was Wade taking advantage of her? She replied, "And why not? Since when is it up to you to look after him?"

"Mom!" Aubrey protested. "He is lucky his mom even gets any child support from his dad! Her paycheck doesn't come til the end of the week. Sometimes, he eats okay, but sometimes they just don't have the money! You know how it is with bills and stuff! It is usually just a bag of chips and whatever else he can find"

Aubrey's mom only vaguely knew of Wade Hodak. What little she knew of his mother, his mom seemed on the up-and-up. She remembered that the woman had to pull her daughter out of  dance class because she couldn't afford it, the same class her younger daughter was in.

Aubrey's mom smiled and gave her a kiss and a hug, "Peanut butter and jelly?" Well, don't lay it on too thin.", she advised.  Aubrey smiled big, a sweet smile with those braces on her teeth, and she was becoming a beautiful, young woman, both inside and out.

"That's what I was hoping you would say", Aubrey said and added, gratefully. "Thanks mom".  Peanut butter and jelly it was.

Take me back to a different hotel every night and living out of a suitcase. Getting comfortable in our naked bodies around each other; comparing breast size and stretch marks—examining ourselves like the men who’ve carelessly fondled us before for our likes and dislikes. Sharing a bottle of lukewarm tequila in the world’s smallest bathtub and then I sing you to sleep. Highway cars buzzing past and there’s only one road to get lost on, but we manage it every single time. Your car becomes a dressing room at gas stations where people stare with disapproving glares and worry for the safety of their wallets; because we don’t belong here but we laugh—still drunk from the early morning hours and just trying to find the next check-in spot for the night. There never is a real destination but home always seems too close and we both hate that part. It doesn’t feel right when it ends or when I have to crawl back into my own bed without a time frame to be out by in the morning—before the housekeeping maid comes banging on our door,
yet again.

I remember I was scared to death
the first time I had a girl alone with me
I remember thinking
do I just pull it out and present it
Or do I wait for her to ask to see it
or do I just sit here and talk untill she says "are we gonna do this"
Or do I go "are we gonna do this"
instead we watched like 2 hours of random tv, talked, I showed my Tattoos
she Showed me ones that she will be getting someday on her body.
And then it Happened the sign
The flip of the hair
The little Flutter of the eyes
I knew I had to make my move
So I said "I've been looking at you since I first saw you and wondered what'd be like to kiss you"
she says "well are you gonna keep wondering or do it"
We begin to make out in the back of my head im praying she doesnt start using tounge
because im horrible at french kissing. Luckily it didn't happen
As I begin to rub her back I unsnap her braw with one hand
which I never did before that.
The shirt came off smoothly and I looked at a set of amazing little perky *******.
I tasted her flesh surrounding this tender area
and took my shirt off
revealing my skrany tatted up body.
She began to push down on me and soon as  was on my back and she was Hovered over me.
I remember thinking to myself THIS IS AWESOME.
just as she thought she was in controll I flipped her over brushed my hands down her hips.
AND IT HAPPENED the moment you know your getting laid (my brother told me this before)
The slight arch of her back just enough for me to remove her pants in a swift motion.
The rest is history
or should I say Herstory.
I remember the next day going to school
and later on seeing her at parties
and eventually I never seen her again
somehow or another she just vanished
to this day I dont Know where she is
but **** can I remember everything about that night
her outfit down to her ear rings
what song I had playing (Tupac How do You Want It)
the nervous tick  I do with my thumb nails clicking them haha.
she asked me if This was my first time ( I replied yes)
She told me that I was her first also (not like first)
but first time actaully being made love too.
she said I knew exactly what to do
and that she never had a man actaully take his time with her.
I brushed her hair back
and whispered in her ear ( in all the seas and all the lakes I found  mermaid by mistake)
my little way of saying she was speacil.
I've never found another mermaid is what im getting at
and honestly after all the girls past present a future
I'll never have another night like that
so if your out there Aubrey
this writings for you

Aubrey took in the dame
in the red dress, her hams
moving under the tight cloth,
her ringed fingers showing

as she moved her hands, the
pointed dugs like small noses
pressed against the redness.
He took in her hair, noticed

the colour, the waves, the  
highlights. He sipped coffee.
Cappuccino, white froth on
his upper lip, wiped off with

the back of his hand. She
stood window shopping;
stood moving her legs, her
hams in **** motion still.

He leaned back. He eased
against the chair. She had
stooped forward. Her eyes
price gauging, hands behind

her back, holding a hand
bag, rings showing. He
settled on her neckline.
A necklace, silver, a cross

without a Christ. She turned
and gazed up the shopping
mall. She sighed. He watched.
Sipped coffee. The waitress

who brought it walked with
a wiggle. Tiny backside, tight,
she thin as if some Modigliani
dame. She walked by holding

an empty tray. Wiggled, head
level. The dame in the red dress
turned and faced him. Their
eyes met; green on brown;

hers on his. She looked away
taking nothing of him. He
drank in her eyes and mouth;
lingered in his darkroom mind.

He sipped again. She folded
her arms, handbag hanging,
eyeing her small gold watch.
Aubrey took in her legs,

the hairlessness, the silk
smooth suntanned legs.
Younger he may have
drooled; now he just

gazed and gazed. She
looked up the long mall.
He sat up and downed
his coffee. Her Romeo,

if such, arrived. They
embraced; he swung
her around. Excitement,
bright eyes, smiles.

They walked off. Aubrey
watched her go, not
unhappy or ill, he'd had
his sight and had his fill.

Punished misery infused,
little Aubrey misguided disowned,
cursed left alone never engaged,
heard seen comes all end

Crying transcends a wave,
sending madness beyond comprehension,
bodies upon bodies swell in,
as laughter arouses between,

Trapped could hands bound
feeding a plate always full
silence never comes
little Aubrey a beast in carnage

I remember your stare as soon as you saw me
We were at a bar, and I smiled as soon as you did

Aubrey, You are crossing the paths.
In my head, I play a memory of you
I keep on seeing little signs
But I can't catch them, all I get were these aftermaths

You wonks sank deep, and my hand touches your skin,
You took me for a ride and I visualize lips

Aubrey, You are crossing the paths.
In my head, I play a memory of you
I keep on seeing little signs
But I can't catch them, all I get was the aftermath

Whenever I see your face,
I fall in love each time; I got lost in your voice

Aubrey, You are crossing the paths.
In my head, I play a memory of you
I keep on seeing little signs
But I can't catch them, all I get were these aftermaths

At the ocean, we join and dance until we fall
Because anything we ever shared here will soon fade
I sang your voice and my love for your overall
Our feet's buried on the sands and we were afraid

Aubrey, You are crossing the paths,
In my head, I play a memory of you
Only a memory of your laughs
Something I could hold onto
Because none of these will ever stay.

Stay put Owner occupiers  are now envied
corners of smudged wealth,
suburbian renters isotope
brandish new England
more the continental model.
In derelict public houses
inside weightless Box Rooms
every blade of concrete counts.
I shall play in once Lavender fields
and usher questions.
How many times
do we render our knowledge?
ghost town forms are in submission,
again recession chimes
more than a lack of opportunities,
but who are these  newcomers arriving en masse
to once bespoke areas
with money earned
from former unfashionable abodes ?

He is beautiful and poetic.
Sensitive and creative.
I bet if he hugged me
I'd feel secure
Perfect.
So perfect that I'm afraid I'm not worth it.
I wish he knew.

Shannon, Mariah, Serena, Maria
Meridia, Midian, Sharon, Alliah
Rochelle, Camille, Rose, Halo
Trenna, Jessica, Ashley, Georgia
Marla, Olivia, Sofia, India
Daniella, Diana, Christina, Caroline
Isabella, Amelia, Amanda, Matilda
Nadine, Haley, Bailey, Francine
Eliza, Annabelle, Kathryn, Sandra
Melinda, Audrey, Aubrey, Emily
Tara, Emma, Ginny, Kathleen
Josephine, Helena, Charlotte, Laura
Chelsea, Arkady, Megan, Kelsey
Kayla, Karliah, Moana, Vivien
Kaysea, Macy, Stacy, Lorraine
Theresa, Felicia, Cecilia, Darlene
Holly, Brianna, Alexa, Ariel
Marianne, Miranda, Jennie, Coral
Korra, Daisy, Penelope, Rayne
Zoey, Cassandra, Grace, Stephanie

If you had to pick one adjective to sum up Michael Kors' collection at last month's New York Fashion Week, a good bet might be "feathery."

The designer was going for "the flirty freedom of things that move," to quote his production notes, and there were flirty feathers on at least 10 of the looks he sent down the runway - starting with feathers adorning a pair of jeans, and moving to feathers on a houndstooth tweed coat, on a denim or tweed skirt, and on black silk for ultimate evening effect.

There also were plenty of sequins, adding a very bright sheen to some of the fashions, especially a silver sequin embroidered "streamer" dress, with the hem cut into strips that indeed looked like streamers, and also a pair of seriously glistening silver metallic stretch tulle pants.

This is Kors' flagship collection, not his more accessibly priced secondary line.

Kors always has a healthy celebrity contingent at his fashion shows, and February's event was no exception: Blake Lively and Jennifer Hudson were among the front-row guests. They were there to witness an anniversary of sorts for Kors.

"I'm not one for anniversaries and I'm really not a big kind of looking-over-my-shoulder kind of guy," Kors said in a backstage interview. "But when I started designing this I realized, oh my God, this is my 35th fall collection. That's crazy!"

Kors added that as he reflected on the milestone, he realized the most important thing was to keep his fashion fun.

"I wanted this to be full of fun and charm," he said. "So it's very flirty, short, leggy, not a gown in sight. All the rules are broken because stylish people break the rules ... The seasons are crazy anyway. So when the weather's terrible, don't you want to put on a fabulous apple green coat to change your spirits? Don't you want to wear tweed with flowers? Don't you want to put feathers on flannel? Wear flats at night? Wear metallic for a day?"

From his sunglasses to his gold glitter pumps, Kors' collection exuded fun, not fuss. Even a denim skirt is luxe, when covered in feathers. A hoodie adds reality to a silver sequin cocktail dress. And who doesn't love handbags the colors of jelly beans.

CAVALLI'S DECADENCE

MILAN - Even while venturing back in time to the Belle Epoque era, Peter Dundas' latest collection for Roberto Cavalliremains rooted in the rock 'n' roll '60s and '70s. His collection bowed during Milan Fashion Week last month.

The languid looks were strong on glamour and workmanship, from the ephemeral sheer beaded evening dresses in pale shades to the colorful patchwork fur coats worthy of any rock star: art nouveau meets Janis Joplin.

''Decadence, superstition, mysticism, Gustav Klimt, Aubrey Beardsley - things that give me a kick," Dundas said backstage, describing his inspirations.

He said the Roberto Cavalli woman for the season is ''a little wild and instinctive."

The Cavalli animal print for next winter is tiger, in long skirts and short bomber jackets, while denim gets its due with a long trailing coat and flared embroidered jeans. Looks were finished with long scarves tied casually around the neck, makeup hastily done and hair loose and natural.

Notwithstanding the labor involved in his creations, Dundas says he would like to see his collections get into stores more quickly than the current system permits.

''I wish I could. I am working on it," Dundas.

DIOR'S PARISIENNE

PARIS - Vogue fashion doyenne Anna Wintour, former French first lady Bernadette Chirac and Chinese actress Liu Yifeiwere among the celebrities on the front row of the Dior show held in an annex inside the picturesque Rodin Museumgardens in January.

In the clothes, the "spontaneous, relaxed Parisienne of today" mixed with the iconic styles of the 1940s and 1950s.

High-cut post-War shoes with occasional retro ankle bows accessorized embroidered silk gowns in freestyle volumes - often with "sensual, bare" accentuated shoulders. A couple of flapper-style lace, chiffon and tulle look also evoked the joyful feeling of the 1920s - the period between the two World Wars.

Dior's studio team of designers also set about experimenting with the famed "bar jacket" - it "changes appearance depending on whether it is worn closed or loose," said the program notes.

It thus came in myriad forms: in tight, embroidered black wool, loose and white, open to expose the breast sensually, oversized and masculine, or as a beautiful dark navy wool coat.

There were also traces of the historical musings of past creative directors - such as Galliano and Simons - set off nicely in one look off-white wool "bar" jacket interpretation with flappy 18th-century cuffs.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses

I'm sending you an indigofera tinctora
plant it, water it, grow it
when it blooms
pluck a petal and hold it to your eye
look at me
through its vulnerable corolla
for when you need to see beyond the tangible
the little girl you created
Aubrey -
A not so ordinary girl or name
But who's to blame?

I'm sending you a stained glass dreamcatcher
careful it doesn't break
hang it over your bed
when you wake, hold it to your eyes
look at me
for when you need to see my truth
Joseph's coat of many colors
Aubrey -
A not so ordinary girl or name
But who's to blame?

I'm sending you the promise of a flood-free future
take a step closer
study it
place the promise between us
illuminate
for when you seed to my truth
hate-proof, judge-proof, water-proof
Aubrey -
A not so ordinary girl or name
But who's to blame?

They come on to my clean
sheet of paper and leave a Rorschach blot.
They do not do this to be mean,
they do it to give me a sign
they want me, as Aubrey Beardsley once said,
to shove it around till something comes.
Clumsy as I am,
I do it.
For I am like them -
both saved and lost,
tumbling downward like Humpty Dumpty
off the alphabet.

Each morning I push them off my bed
and when they get in the salad
rolling in it like a dog,
I pick each one out
just the way my daughter
picks out the anchoives.
In May they dance on the jonquils,
wearing out their toes,
laughing like fish.
In November, the dread month,
they **** the childhood out of the berries
and turn them sour and inedible.

Yet they keep me company.
They wiggle up life.
They pass out their magic
like Assorted Lifesavers.
They go with me to the dentist
and protect me form the drill.
At the same time,
they go to class with me
and lie to my students.

O fallen angel,
the companion within me,
whisper something holy
before you pinch me
into the grave.

I'd known you for all five years of my life
when I learned we are cousins.
I envied the seven months of wisdom you had
more than me.
You had a dog I loved
and a stuffed cat that purred.
You saw the elephants in Chiang Mai
seven months before I did.

When i see you, i cant help but smile.
You let me forget my worries, if only for a few moments.
Your name is so unique and adorable.
Im glad you dont read poetry.
Im so quiet, and you are so loud and outgoing
what makes you like me?
Opposites attract?
Im horrible at sports,
while youre making every basket.
Our lives cant be more different.
But i love it.
Me, the book nerd
and you, the athlete.
Whats in store for us?

We would meet most Sunday mornings,
always before 10 o'clock, when the dew from the night before
was still blanketing the grass
and the birds were still sleeping silently,
the trees cracking as they awakened from their slumber
and fog still hanging above the air like a burden.

We would meet outside of the public house,
a sign of green metal with gold lettering hung just outside
the door, welcoming cyclists and families;
advertising their beautiful beer garden which we would
often traipse through,
admiring the rose bush that the landlady planted some years ago,
and sometimes stopping to run our hands through the water
of the water feature which stood proudly in the corner.

Brick dust would hang about the air, as we perched our bodies
against the structure of the decaying wall outside the pub,
holding onto each other with our faces pressed incredibly close together,
your hands in my back pockets
and my lips pressed firmly to yours.

We'd often walk hand in hand,
passing dog walkers and old couples, who would
smile and say 'good morning' to us before passing on their way,
and you'd always be so polite to them,
and offer them smokes.

You took me to a bench by Aubrey Pond one time;
and you sat with me, taking my hand in your own
and pressing your mouth to my cheek,
"darling there is something I must tell you"
you muttered
and for a moment my heart froze and my brow furrowed
"I leave tomorrow evening," you paused.
"I won't be back."

-

It is only now, that six full months have passed,
that I have stopped to notice the dew on the grass,
and the silence of the birds
and the cracking of the trees.

I no longer read the gold lettering of the metal sign
that hangs precariously just outside of the pub door,
advertising its awfully kept garden,
and rose bushes planted by a mad old woman,
who paid a small fortune for a badly placed water feature.

I no longer invite strangers to converse with me,
and I most certainly do not acknowlegde their kind words,
and I refuse to give them smokes.
The couples will sneer at me abnoxiously and they will be
shoved on their way,
as I stare bleakly at the ground on which I walk upon,
and scuff my feet against the ***** path of the
frightening woodland.

You took me to Aubrey Pond one time;
and you sat with me, taking my hand in your own
and pressing your mouth to your cheek.

And I never saw you again.

flower child.
so soft spoken and sweet.
            you are my hippy sister.
fashionista you set trends.
         I love your vibe.
so calm and carefree.
with a creative mind and unique soul
                        you are art.
I can imagine you with a
                              big curly fro.
paint cans, brushes and canvases
               cluttering your NewYork flat
as sounds of
Lana del Rey and Jhene Aiko
              fill your apartment
and posters of
Aubrey Graham
grace your walls
          ten years from now.
O.Rob.

If it's not me
then it's you
I went with a feeling
That I felt was true
To find that things
weren't as comfy, as they seemed
So everything ended
like in a nightmarish dream

feelings left me, alone in this place
And turned me into, a ****** up head case
I have a ******* smile
That will stay with me for a while
But when I see you again
I'll still call you my friend

This is how, my life works
I make believe, nothing hurts
When ample time has passed
All the feelings rush to fast
Make it so, I can't think straight
I need to just, slow down and wait
**** all this **** that is in my head
I don't want you to leave, I wish that I said,

It's gonna be okay
All of this dies, if you let go
Do not shut down
It will be easier, if you don't
you can't hide, the look on your face
Surrounded by people, alone, in this place
I know that things have been said but true felling have been held.
I almost wish I had meds
Cause its too much for my head and you will always be missed in my bed

can I replace the new with old and call it new, or is that false representation?

will you sue me if I throw in a few past words and sell them to you as newer and better, more reliable, even though they might not be?

what about if I offer to steal a few glances to keep your thoughts scrambling for more?

can I seal a few letters with my Amsterdam red lipstick, to prove that there isn't a word I wrote to you that didn't come straight from my mouth, even though a few, ok all of them probably didn't?

after all, it is real, right?

-Julia Aubrey Rhodes-

they are my famiglia
they are italian, polish and maltese,
probably a lot of other things too
we're basically mutts
there are five of us, if you include the dog
they are the best

there's my mom;
i call her "ma" or "woman" or "mom" or "mama" or "rochelle", if i want to irritate her
she's the best cook in the world
she always calls me her "bambina"
and sings me songs and writes me cute notes
she's my best friend and biggest fan (sorry dad)
i'm convinced she can read my mind,
even when i'm 2 1/2 hours away, she can tell when something's wrong
she's the best mom in the world

and then, there's my dad;
i call him "dad" or "daddy" or "bob" because he doesn't seem to care
he's hilarious and actually tells good dad jokes
he loves talking about
government conspiracies and
new health trends he's trying
he calls my mom just to say "i love you" and buys me flowers on valentine's day because "i want you to know what a man should do for you one day"
he's so great, i hope i marry a man like bob one day

and there's my brother;
i call him "bro" or "broski" or usually just, "bobby"
he loves me with all his heart
but cannot hug me
because his ocd clouds his mind
he's funny and loves the oldies
he also loves trips to chipotle with me
he won't tell me about girls
because "you'll tell mom," but will talk to me about everything else
gosh i love him with all my heart too

and there's my dog;
who we all call "boo" and sometimes i call him some random nickname
he's so cute, but super vicious
one minute he'll be curled up in-between your legs and the next?
he's attacking you and biting you in the lip
he's scared of thunderstorms and fireworks and people, really he's scared of everything
he's not perfect, but he loves me and i love him

and then, there's me;
they call me "dee-dee" or "aubs" or plain old, "aubrey"
i'm the first born pain in the ****,
who's dream is to marry a nice christian man, own a cafe, adopt children, have children, and just have a great family
currently, i'm in college, missing my great family
my current dream would be, sitting on the couch with my dog on my lap, my mom cooking in the kitchen, my dad hanging out in the garage building something cool, and my brother playing video games and complaining about me taking over the bathroom we share.

can you tell i miss them?
can you tell i love them?

Allow me to stutter
B-Because this is something i really can't admit
ExEmption—that is what you are to me
GanGin' up on me like little squirrels
AsphAlt-dragging cuddly bear
InducIng pain and ecstasy
Lalala-Lullaby of nightmare and desire no one should see

It really is something
N-Nah, you really are something
InItially something from my peripheral vision
E-elEvated like a server administrator
GoonG! a golden mic when you didn't auditioned
"OooooOoooh~" cried the wolf in a human form