Hours, Later

I’m thinking of them, those soft-lipped women, sitting side by side like litter-mates. They yawn simultaneously, then settle their curly-haired heads against each other; closing their eyes for just a moment. The smell of vanilla lotion is thick in the air, and smooth as honeyed kisses. Nothing is wasted; yet, their story is full of unanswered questions. A string of pearl-sized love bites ring their necks, making it hard to disguise the plum-colored bruises on their golden skins that glow above the soft folds of sundresses. Do they ever sleep? These pure and chaste women who lean on each other.

From Guest Contributor M.J.Iuppa

M.J.’s forthcoming fifth full length poetry collection The Weight of Air from Kelsay Books and a chapbook of 24 100-word stories, Rock. Paper. Scissors. from Foothills Publishing, in 2022. For the past 33 years, she has lived on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Check out her blog: mjiuppa.blogspot.com for her musings on writing, sustainability & life’s stew.

Of Two Minds

He begged her to come back and now he’s watching her unpack her suitcase. He knows that she isn’t going to stay. She’s the sort of woman who never stays. She’s the sort of woman who has a purple hairdryer, peach-scented lotion, and coconut shampoo. Who does she think she is? A movie star? Her underpants are black, red, green, and blue, because she’s fickle. She can’t choose just one color. Everything in the suitcase is evidence of her inconstancy. A pair of roller skates is the last straw. This is insanity, he thinks. I will tell her to leave.

From Guest Contributor Alice Brigance