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 Aaron Jensen There should have been pain. Gene knew that; he also knew that the lack of that pain meant that he was probably going to die. The only thing left to ponder was how long it would take this mangled and motionless husk—which had been a fit and…
