top of page
  • Writer's picturetheplantnews

You



Skipping Stones

By Darcy Burnett


Finger curled around a paper thin stone,

Place bets on this rock.

At the valley of rippled reflections,

My rigid arm is a revolver’s hammer,


I’ve seen the flickers in the vacuous night.

What was shot out severs and

Makes trembling bashful kisses to the water beneath.

I start to wipe the sand and seaweed from my hands.


Rogue waves still erupt from below,

Lips break on broken glass.

The stone drowns in a stoic free fall,


I sift for another rock.



Candlelight

By Melyna Gilbert

candlelight is how i like to

see you say my name

tumbling through the dark

to find the light

whispered past the burning smoke

and caressing listening ears


candlelight is how i like to

see you say my name

the way your lips wrap around it

and dance with its momentum

the way your eyes carry it

and spill its secrets into scorching heat


candlelight is how i like to

see you say my name

caught by the glow

and engulfed by the darkness

following your eyes towards mine

it sounds like sin and prayer


Old Friends

By Mariana Chajon


Season visit,

I see you standing in place.

It’s implicit,

I can’t keep up the pace.


Yearly limit,

And my space grows into less.

I want to see you but

I can’t keep up the pace.


I count the minutes

Of my every day

And in the end

They always run away.


I try catch

My old friends

In between takes,

In between breaks.


Yearly visit

Won’t come today

It’s implicit

You’ve turned the page.


0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Kara Fusaro Curiosities Editor To write about thoughts or feelings Enclosed to the idea of “learning” Only to feed on what was spat out, Like a bird to its offspring. To never experience the desired p

Rim Naguib Contributor Here he was, handsome as a fairytale Hair flowing in the breeze with ease It wasn't the effect of the cocktail As the shameless cold shoves the breeze Pretty face followed by th

Kayla Friedland Contributor i realized i was a worthless paradox the day i found out that you didn’t love me on that day, i spoke cinnamon sugar into my own wretched spine one that had concaved for yo

bottom of page