Craig Steele, Summer 2016

Final Cruise
Craig Steele

Can ye fathom the ocean, dark and deep,
where the mighty waves and the grandeur sweep?
― Fanny Crosby

When my days become an afterglow, and I a memory,
scatter my ashes upon those wind-teased waves

that raise the fiery, sunrise tides beyond the nearest
far horizon. I’ll be a shell returning to the sea,

cruising its antique surface where, below me, Continue reading “Craig Steele, Summer 2016”

Mason Crawford, Summer 2016

Blue Jeans
Mason Crawford

I still feel ill
saying your name,
Miss

Or I should start calling you Mrs,
Does your husband
Taste the thieving of innocence
On your lips

Feel my young
Round, boy belly
On your hands

Does he know about
Your hunger for children
Mrs

See it in your eyes
How you long for the
Feeling of
An eggshell body

So
Smooth,
White,
Fragile

Mrs,
I know you’re state’s away
But I can still feel your
Breath in the nook of my neck
Your spider hands
Crawling down my ribcage
The tug of the blue jeans Continue reading “Mason Crawford, Summer 2016”

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