Poem submissions for the Spring 2012 issue:
The people around me are
sharp, brittle, empty shells.
They try to hide it by reflecting
and all the other empty shells,
with hollow smiles
and mirror eyes.
But you are different.
Even now I’m surprised to see
that instead of a cold, hard reflection,
I see a window
so clear that it compels me,
draws me into the depth of your
Only you with your window eyes.