page 1
previous | next
Kindred

               I dreamed you drew
               my blood. I am left licking
               my lips days on end.

Romance

               The thrill of love lies
               in the prelude, the promise
               of a sure fall forward.

Submission

               They call it swooning,
               this business of melting,
               turning clammy, cold.

Painting by Lisa Davis Gentile
previous | next