Stephenie VanCampJones

The air pulsates with
never ending rhythym,
deep into the soul.
...

Some don't know any better,
some just choose the long road
despite its hardship.
Gravel has a certain appeal
...

I am but your imagination,
a word, careless thought
visceral dilation.
Myth, magic, smoke screen
...

Down the highway of dried up tears, pent up lust
and hopeless dreams, or to dwell
...

He said he'd been dry
for nearly three months, but
she could see his palms sweat
as he rubbed his hands together.
...

In rythmic intervals
thoughts come and go;
Past to present blurs
into disjointed fragments as
...

Soft as silk
between my fingers,
your dreams shimmer
in the cast of moonlight
...

He was filled with insecurities when the
stranger came inside. His body trembled despite
his imposing size, nausea filled his belly
as he heard them mention no other choice.
...

I stare up at the nighttime sky,
constellations consume me.
I can't help but wonder
who else may be watching
...

Like a wild animal
who marks its claim into the night.
It whips on through
the isolated caverns in my head
...

I look
at the unopened bottle
and grasp
with internal demons
...

He says he loves me but they're just words
and promises expressed, afterthoughts forgotten
once past the lips.
...

From these words that you keep
and false promises you speak,
I lose track of double entendres
while they slip from your tongue
...

Clouds break open against
a painted horizon, spattered
in pastel pinks
and blues.
...

Who is she
the girl who never speaks
her mind in public places, the one who's
afraid of her own shadow
...

Contented by the zen-like afterglow, intoxicated
by nothing but hydrangeas and your
felt pedaled kisses. Caught up in our own
ethereal delight, my heart beat soars
...

On so many levels
it hurts just to breathe.
Heartache for moments
lost;
...

i don't understand how so much time
has gone by and still
no word from you.
no call, no letter, no sign.
...