By Evelyn Thakur Midnight, darkness abound — here comes the Bride of Cavendish!   Gaze upon her sallow, shuddering form,   as she floats from her marbl'd fortress to reach for your hand;   catch the dim glow of candlelight burning through her diaphanous skin,   clear as glass and   crystalline as the oceans once reflected in her eyes.       Pray, keep your distance!   The Bride is beautiful,   porcelain doll kept pristine despite   the weathered hand of time enshrouding us  

By Liz Verlander They tell me it is like flying. I must, to protect their backs. (Their precious backs that turn me, then turn away from me leaving me to cook in this airless room).   In the patterns of the ceiling I see us the day Lisa was born, remember you telling Tom the stork had brought her, recall him incredulous ,you so happy you almost believed the lie. “A stork is a large wading bird with red legs and beak.” Tom later read from his children’s encyclopaedia, “It eats

By Hélène Iolanta I awoke, all eyes to my sister’s knowing hands covering my mouth  to the mix of yesterday’s blue nail polish and strawberry hair spray she whispered like lemonade, we have to go   my yellow dinosaur backpack and shoes sat ready the monsters are coming   Quietly now , she said as she guided my little arms into my green puffer coat I looked to her rainbow sneakers, and the moon watching over  so carefully she zipped, up to my chin, then squeezed my shoulders l