Visage Traveler

October 25, 2017

I long to be small, so small
that I can walk over the
contours of your face.

I want to travel over the
corners of your lips, and
go to the very center,

and settle there.

I want to be able to climb
your nose so I can
watch your expression
change,

I would sit in that oval tub
between your nose and
your lips

and
        watch
               you
                       smile.

Kiss the roots of the hair that grows
from the bones of your tawny
chin.
Carefully walk through your eyelashes
and get a really close look at the colour of your eyes,

finally.

You wouldn’t even know

that I was there.

Nancy P. Davenport

Impossible…

October 25, 2017

There is a moment – perhaps two – in the lifetime of each of us when the eye sees, the mind recoils, and all conscious thinking rejects what the eyes have seen…

Davis Grubb
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod

In the firelight, it looked as though some disgusting torture had been practised on the girl and was about to be resumed, for her body, skeletal and black, appeared to have been burned, branded and charred by the naked man who once again loomed over her…

Stephen Gregory
The Woodwich

Musical Interlude

October 25, 2017