Certainly,
I would decline.

Unrepentant
He’s singing
About the shortcuts
To my veins

I won’t miss you when you’re dead.

We are equally wrecked, and I do not need a drop of drink to loosen my tongue and un-prise my grasp and concede my bestial organ to your demand.

I dare any
Of the commonly-afflicted to defy
The scour of unseldom piercing sting–
Ever sweeter than it seems.

Rivers wound through spools
Wet washed cheeks, heavy breathing
Water turns to wine

High-tech sunglasses
Purchase these accessories
To fool the masses

Slice it like a banana,
And split the slender bits.

Squeezed through smarting gibes:
Lime juice; add tabasco sauce
To marinate wounds

Resentful capriciousness
Nearly rests
As martyred saints
Self-compress
Into statuesque
Brick-and-mortared
Monuments

Smudges of cyan —
Our story’s ending; skin stains
Temporarily.

Arterial spurts
Kamikaze in reverse
See you next lifetime

I held you too tight
Too long
Dreaming of you
I lost myself

Come inside.
Where sinews graze the light,
Branches entangle
Between branded limbs.
Passionate impulse
Quickens the pulse.

Whimsy merges with melancholy to evoke the spectrum of conflicting emotions, as explored through Bee Queen’s artworks: dark-themed tableaux reflecting glimmers of love-light through a painted lens of hope.

you own them
as slaves own
not even their
given names
because master
gave you
one of his own

The color she picks is metallic purple. It reminds me of a skirt I used to wear to the club-of-the-week before I became legal. As she takes in every colorful detail of her favorite superhero cartoon, I paint her tiny fingernails more carefully than I’ve ever painted my own. I don’t tell her that one […]

Each time I drive by Apartment 8, I chance a glance at the 2nd-story window, hoping against hope that your sunshine will greet me.

R.I.P.,
Summer’s ream
of sundry dreams

Rio Shayne

Multi-movement contemporary artist

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Although in the past, she nearly abandoned her passion for art, Rio Shayne attributes her revival of visual creativity to a combination of occasional psychedelic use, subsequent soul-healing, and renewed faith in herself as both an artist and a human being.

“Love is the meaning of life, and my goal is to express that through my art.” – Rio Shayne


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A neat feat of customer service

Intimidated
He slingshots the killing rock
Misses his target

Reinventing art
Material recycled
Through plagiarism

Pull the curtains
They might see
I want her
To watch me

Full-fat cream, my thighs
His tongue, a red hibiscus
Trickling nectar

Mellorine pastures
Snowmaking to pacify
Observer’s sweet tooth

Natural instinct
Witness the small miracle
Nurturing her young

Artist Gianluca Pisano is the Edge of Humanity Magazine contributor of these images. From his series ’Bodies’. To see Gianluca’s body of work click on any photograph. See also: Still Life By Gianluca Pisano via The Human Figure | DARK — Edge of Humanity Magazine

Ripening belly
Fertile goddess undulates
Body grazes soul

Raise basket lid
Charm twitching snake

Auditory gasp
As our lips meet
For the last time

Memories sweeten
Invigoration of loss
Don’t take me with you

He swears he loves me. I have an easy time believing him, because he keeps repeating it.

I have become a victim of my ingrained insecurities.

He surprises me with a midday quickie.

Quiescent wildwood
Fastened to earth by forces
Ambulatory

They make it their job
Spiteful nose-less hypocrites
Snorting up a fuss

You pass me a note folded into a cat’s cradle and stroke my chipped Milky Way nail polish as I accept it.

Pretty much the best short story I’ve read on WordPress. They call me the Woodwose. But they know that I am the forest; I am the canopies and the wind and the soil underneath. I have been, ever since I inhabited its heart long ago, and settled again in another still, in the heart of […]