Piece One

Brittany Bilderback

I dance for you,
Call it whiskey
Fading to autumn.
Soft you fall to me,
Escaping meaning and
The adoring lust
In withdrawn eyes.
Your fragile hands
Making music so sweet
I long to give myself
To your chorus--
Touch me,
Musician
Your skin softer
Than my own
Your words a lullaby
To my ears ruined
By symphonic pollution.
Take me,
Musician
With the leaves falling
Around my dusty halo
The colors reflected
In the chords of your smile.

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Here is a large photo of the 2008 cover

Check out the 2007 Journal