[by John Grey] She lifts one leg up to the bar, the other straight as a broom handle. While most girls fall apart, she keeps her stillness. She’s a painting, that’s how she achieves her immortality.
[by Alexandra Renwick] you’re such a wild prose; saying you hate poetry won’t negate the flow of you you make of me a moebius strip curving into your curves twisting into your twists
[by Linda M. Crate] there is a beat to everything in life, and our dance was a clumsy one the music was always off;
[by Virginia M. Mohlere] Why She Stayed Even a wolf’s belly feels comfy …..if you rest in it long enough—
[by Matthew Mutiva] A neighborless neighborhood in a ghetto metropolis He astral projects in to the hood to disable all the hostile, combustible elements: catch them off the rebound before they detonated a school, debuted in the nick of time to catch stray bullets out of thin air, and then beam them to the cosmos
[by Christine Hillingdon] I want to dance under the stage lights on a perfect floor with red velvet curtains either side
[by Judith Skillman] If only an ornament gone cold in winter, still we feed it water, carry the weight of our old sorrows
[by Shannon Connor Winward] On the bay of Dublin the pulse and the din of the land and the sea breed desire. The caw of the gulls, and the roar of the swells, are known to set hearts afire.
[by Lorraine Schein] In her Book of Shadows, the witch pasted the penumbra of the Earth during lunar eclipse with milky white glue.
[by Victor Cypert] Man and doe caught like a snapshot —parameterized, ….denuded, ……….depicted— two dimensions in phase: