fonn
cara farnan

fog horn calls
jennifer moore

whispering
emma brennan

The language of longing
is told in whispers

pools of feathered sounds
of intimacy
lie gently in the cavern of your mouth.

Written with the soft winds of wanting,

in exhalation
they lament your lips
and roll forth upon the tides of your breath.

Where the air falls silent
we are both closer together
and further apart than before.


And than we’ll ever be again.