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 Dawn Fryauff I have been told how to grieve by a dozen well-intentioned souls. I have watched friends Seethe with the anger that I seem unable to feel towards the man as innately part of me as my name; which no longer belongs to me. One he freely gave,…
