Cemetery Sentiment

in this silent graveyard,no one mentioned death.the hair on my arms stood at attention,like soldiers in the cold war.temperature below freezing,any moisture turned into iceand fell onto his eyelashes.just before midnight,we grabbed a bouquet ofplasticyellowroses.he quivered from the cold,but his smile never faded.vows spilling from his lips,like a waterfall made of his soul.his nose was cold against mine,after the final words of our connection.pulling away he looked at me,a shimmer in his eyes,knowing,that forever,he will always be mine.

From Guest Contributor Neyalla Ryu

Nightshirt

It was shocking to find the moon to be just as Joey had always seen her in paintings: the pointy chin, drooping lids and blue glitter eyelashes, the silver curlicue smile. Cold as it was, she smelled like steaming milk, and the look in her eyes was warm and vast, outside and inside at the same time. She was almost two-dimensional, but he knew she had room for him. He climbed on, nestled his knees into the hollow under her bottom lip, hooked a hand around the bridge of her nose, and fell asleep in the pillow of her cheek.

From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat

After graduating with a BA in English from Vassar College, Brook landed her first paid writing job as a reporter for a small-town Colorado newspaper. She left it to travel to India, where she fell in love, got married and canceled her ticket home. She and her husband Gaurav write freelance articles for dozens of publications, including Outpost, Ecoworld and Little India. In 2013, they launched www.BluePlanetJournal.com, which she edits and writes for. She also teaches writing at a community college, is earning her MFA in Writing at Lindenwood University, and is writing a novel.