You see
her apricot shoulders
dressed with auburn wisps
that —drift—- drift
like feathers into the clouds above.
Hovering over your
hungry stares,
delighted,
she parts her plum, puckered lips
to free a stirring sigh
that breaks your body
and blurs your mind.
She
is the most heavenly dessert
you will never
taste.
“The Voyeurs” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Alicia Ortiz
A necrotized
claw has sprouted from the
neck of my favorite lace gown.
At first, it was a pool
of strawberry syrup
as bright and red
as a freshly skinned knee–
And then,
under the hanging tangerine fog of a Sunday afternoon,
it melted upward
into a
nagging,
sickled flower
of bloodless quiet
anticipating its reflection
in me.
“The Grim” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Sarah Cruce
Bodies in a blizzard
of heaven’s white
and
black of night
tangle and turn
in a cradle,
in a casket
where
her fragments of infinity
wallow then wake.
“The Beginning” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Hugo Barros
Birds in heaven
twinkle with every blink
of her mind’s eye
their luminous bodies
drift into
murky dreams
and rinse away
the filth of fear
so that her visions may rise
“Birds in Heaven” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork: “Koppe” by Hugo Barros
leafless birch trees stretch across the line
between the past
and the present.
Memories caught in between
slip through,
blossoming like moonflowers
in the cover of evening.
And there, below,
with time as my halo,
I bay
like a hound
mourning the day
“Night Howl” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Sarah Cruce
There is an icy ocean that stirs in my fingers and toes
a vivid body of aquamarine,
deep and whole
that moves me into lush gardens
and sparkling kingdoms
where new life flows
from the stars in my eyes
“The Source” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Sarah Cruce
http://www.society6.com/sarahcruce
fear and rage as raw as pain
dwell within the devil’s jungle
I was born of wicked waters
quaking in her red lagoon
cast away from ivory towers
stained with pearls of misery
wild blood
burns in my hands
unbound by heaven’s harmony
now
with fists that throb and howl
I will strike
for I am free.
-“Birth” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Deborah Stevenson:
http://www.etsy.com/shop/deborahstevensonart
The Show Tell Project 