by Nancy Machlis Rechtman He told me that my eyesWere stars twinkling in the nightAnd when he kissed me he murmuredThat my lips were the sweet petals of roses. My heart became the flutterOf birds’ wings soaring through the treesAnd his wordsWere the silky balm on my wounded soul. “Your…
by Christine Holmstrom The smoke from the sergeant’s 25-cent cigar floated across the prison’s control room, a putrid cloud snaking around my head. It smelled worse than my cat’s dirty litter box. Swatting at the column of toxic air, I coughed into a strip of stiff gray state toilet paper…