She Says Catalyst
can you taste the sky, the atmosphere on red?
it moves in a cast-iron curve above her lashes,
climbing down my lungs to breathe her in like water.
she whispers on visions of yesterday,
calling me back from my diatribe suicide and
slumming it under the canopy of mars.
she’s alpha omega in the dark,
a cataclysm rhythm converging in my head.
i see her everywhere.
from eight miles up i watch her passing by:
touching velvet in my veins when she holds someone anyone everyone but me.
her eyes see congruence in the unknown; my voice breaks. sounds of hunger cloud beneath the glass.
i can hear her slithering out from eden,
falling harder every time and calling out to seasoned arms.
she says smother me cover me in that vintage wind,
the smell of vanilla lingers on my hands.
she says catalyst, come into the fire,
to the ground we’ll burn it all.
By Tina Butcher
It was the feeling of escaped euphoria that our eyes felt, as we experienced the phenomena of time falling slowly, watching the waves from an ocean of untuned music crash into our souls.
I had a dream of you, peeling oranges under dead stars, breathing in the soft light, always touching your hair with the organic vibrations of hearts at peace, and,
I awoke, to to the song of her smile.
I awoke, to the song of his death.
I awoke, to the song of invisible birds.
I awoke, to the song of your sweet whispers.
And, in those moments of waking, we felt the rain on our teeth, as I told you my fear of falling into fast moving darkness, and you told me your love of gray skies.
And the rain kept falling on us both, flowing down our skin with the simplicity of air, and the beauty of blood.
Those were the hours of living thoughts, when the smell of fresh ice and tall trees seemed everywhere.
Now, as I think of those moments, in silent reflection, I know only one thing for certain because…
It was the feeling of escaped euphoria that our eyes felt.
By Oakley Merideth