Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Poems by Lisa Zaran   Obsession My lover, he's trying to knock my eyes out. He's jealous. Doesn't want me to look at other men. My lover takes my face in his hands, pulls me to him, says: Oh, how I wish you were blind!   Beauty She mistook beauty for an island, intentionally placed in the middle of the ocean by a masculine God. She drowned trying to swim there.   Love Love is such a strange word. No lips no lungs no logic. Straight sometimes as a rigid spine, the oh like a wide, sad mouth. If you walk past it, your heart weeps. If you stop, it breaks.   Hope translated means grasp. Means: wounded, but searching for ways to recover. Means, reaching up through a dream, when you are totally exhausted and finding your long dead sister standing next to a lake with a smile on her face and the sun lighting up her yellow hair. Next Poem
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