In the aftermath of vacationed love,
your body shifts.
Your chest, my moveable pillow becomes.
Outside, the surf rushes in,
tosses sea shells in its wake.
Evening fog leaks through the screen,
surrounding us in haze.
A distant radio blares, quietens.
Diamonds and Rust.
That old love song about Dylan.
Finally, giving up my vigil, I sleep.
We will change the world,
you said back then.
Thick black hair tangled
down over your shoulders.
Love beads hovering
dangerously over muddy coffee
at that cheap downtown café. .
When did you begin to let flow charts measure your success?
I'm losing you.
The clatter of computer keys
You're losing me,
I told you last week,
bringing us, at last,
to this place.
Sometime around midnight
you reach out,
release my barrette,
then kiss me again.
My hair tumbles free.
by Pris Campbell
(A variation of this was published in Blackmail Press)
Painting: The Glow, by Elaine Henderson-Steele
Copyrighted 2001 and used with permission
(Elaine Henderson-Steele is a self taught artist from Milford Ohio who works primarily in pastel and color pencil. About 2 years ago, she began focusing on her art and has since captured the attention of local art lovers and promoters who have praised her unique style and subject matter)
Music: From Where I Am, by Enya
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