Xanadu
 

She's comfortable in silence, making no demands nor declarations. Her silence holds dignity, the kind which carries intent. She bathes you in sunlight and brushes your hair with gusts of wind. She lives in a home made from gentle words, reverent gestures, and sings lullabies of lovers' heartbeats. She requires no sash nor ribbon and she has no expectations. She once lay at your bedside, tugging at the hem of your sleeve. Yet, you were too busy complaining of sharp sunlight pi

Monday, Tuesday, Friday. The days slip by my fingers, Clawing at each one that passes.  The clock ticks, The right hand moving at a rapid pace. I grab his hand and push back, But I always fall. Getting swept passed each number. Tossed around and bruised. With nothing to do, Besides, accept it. Time will wipe me away— I'll be nothing but a memory.

There are two baselines connected to two side lines that form an 84 by 50 ft rectangle. The rectangle is covered in precisely drawn out lines on either half of the court. The second I enter this cramped space and step onto the freshly polished hardwood floor, only one thing comes to mind— by the end of the 32 minutes, the bright red numbers underneath home are more than away. Once I look up to see those first eight minutes illuminated on the clock, nothing else matters. The w

The tan grains linger as I shake the towel. My hair is one stubborn curl who fears a brush with boar bristles. The boardwalk invites splinters cutting the soles of my feet. The lull has passed and all that is left—  unforgiving waves. Cold water drips down my side, and my clarity sets in. I am no longer having fun. Please cover me up. Please bring me home. Chasing the changing rooms, sodium chloride infiltrates my skin. This is not what I wanted. But when the frozen flakes du

Shay Lublin I do not belong in belonging  “Be careful of the possessive” (I never realized how haunting it is) My and mine make me shiver I want to loafe in my own being  Is such freedom obtainable? My greatest friend is isolation, My biggest fear is objectification, Silent strings tugging me, fooling me, singing to me in sweet songs of manipulation So let me float in my own soul— At least for a while longer Clinging, dreaming My naive youth is fleeting after all I will belon

When she loathes me, I know it. Jabs and slurs: her  rapturous melodies. Her words are harsh and unyielding,  but they burn in front of me in full view. Even so, she  fences with a ghost assailant, cutting right through me  but never landing. Still, she slices away, leaving nothing  to the imagination. She is unrelenting, tells me I am  evil and quiet, calculating and uncommunicative, there  but not. At least, she says, you know my pain. At least,  she says, I share it with y