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 Katherine Yoerg In a variety of colors, they sit in plastic bags, the days of youth arrayed with symbols of the times; Motorolas and Tulips, Versace and Mickey Mouse – beckoning you into the darkness, into the strobe lights, into the drum, bass, and luminescence of being up all…