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~ ~ ~ ~ Kisses ~ ~ ~ by Sylvia Hivens, Georgia |
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Wet, green, oozing ~ yet so sweet! Alien kisses taste as lovely as earthly ones. |
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~ ~ ~ ~ Yours ~ ~ ~ by Suzie Bradshaw, Texas |
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Thick fog fingers reach into my dreams of you, love. Sweet nightmares are waiting for us. |
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Normandy
by Robert E. Porter ©2009
Find her curled up on the floor of a cave and by her silence
you know just how far traveling has sustained the traveler.
Ply her with calvados, then. Make love to the skin and bones
cupped in your hand.
Afterward, she hangs your clothes out to dry on the brambles,
saying the dead will come to suckle on the thorns—yours and her
child also, the infant dashed against the rocks below . . . the
waves part of a message in Morse code for the Resistance working
inland, who condemn local hostages to death as they cut telephone
lines and transport downed pilots in barrels that reek of cider
and The Deserts of Love—flowers of salt and vinegar that
blossom on her cheeks as she looks out across the water, longing
for release.
The living come to pray but they avert their eyes from her
too-naked, scabbed-over knees.
~ Robert E. Porter, Illinois ©2009
Robert has had many poems and stories published in The Fifth
Di..., Illumen, Alienskin Magazine, and
elsewhere, online and in print. He currently serves as cub
reporter for the blog at bearleyport.livejournal.com and pursues a
living as a freelance gonzo journalist. |
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