GAIL ENTREKIN : Longing
MICHAEL REHLING : In Loving Arms
ALISON DANIEL : Scylla
POETRYREPAIRS v12.08:092
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Longing In Loving Arms Scylla  
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GAIL ENTREKIN
Longing
is for more of this moment: your breath in my hair, you sleeping replete, my hand so careful on your tender ribs where the pain, your poor lung like a small wet pillow how they sucked it flaccid and deflated, shoved it aside while they cut and siphoned, chest tube thwacking away in dark, then blew it all back in and pumped it up, glued up those slits in your rising and falling abdomen here where your shaved hair blossoms its new delicate filaments under my fingers longing for you even now when I have you -- your breath stuttering in its new way, a rest and then a fast hard pull, the lung, that kidney bean, still wringing itself out like an overloaded sponge. Keep me with you now attached to your side like a Siamese twin. Take me with you when you go This is my longing: never to breathe a single breath in a world without you in it dreaming
POETRYREPAIRS 12.08:092
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Longing In Loving Arms Scylla  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? klik here

MICHAEL REHLING
In Loving Arms
they call them "arm chairs" placing yourself in their grasp... afghan wrapped to your neck you cuddle into them as you sleep chair arms grow gently holding you tight pressing you just so... moving with your breaths that gentle as you wake the wooden fingers retract to their stationary sentinel selves as unaware consciousness misses the mystery of your safe sleep but while you sleep you know those arms are holding you tightly
POETRYREPAIRS 12.08: 092
Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato





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Longing In Loving Arms Scylla  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? klik here

ALISON DANIEL
Scylla
The cliff's convulsive face spikes submissive sky, splits realities whirlpool, sinks surface tension hip deep in the washbasin. She washes thousands of years until someone sails closer. Nothing but smoke thickens her throat when tourists skip sleep to hear the sweetest chorus. Immortality learns to sing archaeology deep as another hoax smashes rocks. The clairvoyant Fisherman is a phantom. There is no Holy Ghost. Hands scatter parables like blasphemy, oil slaps water between hard places. A beautiful girl is many things.
POETRYREPAIRS 12.08: 092
GAIL ENTREKIN : Longing
MICHAEL REHLING : In Loving Arms
ALISON DANIEL : Scylla
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