When he talked about it
Out of the blue
I listened carefully to his words

The war was decades old
In his mind
And he had stories to tell

Missiles slipped off incoming planes
Scraping across the deck
He leapt out of the way

He cleaned up the messes
Left behind
When the hull was struck

A man walked into a propeller blade
On purpose
He cleaned the deck of blood

He only spoke of it one time
To me
Only one time

---

Elizabeth N. Love is a resident of Kansas, where the blue sky meets a flat horizon. She holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing from the University of Kansas and writes science fiction as well as poetry. When not writing, she is found chauffeuring two children to activities, cooking homemade meals, and practicing creativity in music, drawing, and needlework. You can find out more about her on her blog, here.

Photo credit: SkyDreammer on deviantart / Design credit: Laura A. Lord

Two bodies
One giving, reaching
Grabbing and breaching
Caring, staring
Pausing for air

Two bodies
One receiving, feeling
Kneaded and kneeling
Burning, yearning
Gasping for air

Two bodies, one knot
Both bonding, uniting
Kissing and biting
Listing, twisting
One swallows another

Two bodies, one thought
Both weaving, bobbing
Writhing and throbbing
Moving, grooving
Until splitting asunder

Two bodies at rest
Two minds, both recall
Summer and fall
Quiver, shiver
Winter’s gloom prevails

Two bodies holding tight
One wishes, prays
Cuddles and stays
Coping, hoping
Pushing aside the doubts

Two bodies in the light
One erases, forgets
Qualms and regrets
Breaths, leaves
Pushing aside the sheets

Two bodies
Separate, apart
Body and heart
Hating, waiting
For next Tuesday night

---

Billygoat Gruff is an exploration geologist who travelled the world seeking oil and gas, diamonds and gold. Previously did some research on the dinosaur extinction at the K/T boundary and used conodonts, the dental remnants of extinct worm-like critters to date rock strata. In turns out that while working in the bush in Romania in 1999 I was bitten by some ticks carrying Borrelia spirochetes which caused me to develop a most monumental case of Lyme disease; unfortunately not diagnosed until 2008. The goat lost everything and is attempting a rebound and kickstart a 3rd go at ‘the game of life’. My 1st go? Another story for another time. I found that in writing short stories and other works of fiction I have been able to improve my communication skills which were greatly reduced; also I find it quite therapeutic. Poetry is something I have been attempting lately; I am not sure how successful I am but find it somewhat enjoyable. While all of my initial attempts centered on loss of love, I am having fun writing to the prompts found on this blog.

Photo credit: sanna on deviantart / Design credit: Laura A. Lord