By Olivia Kimbrough

My form you know
Its every bend
And when I’m without the intimacy of me
You see the real
I feel your heart
Beat in synchronization with mine
Our time is limited
But rather divine
And makes me woo with you on my brain
That rains your words
That melt on my skin
Utterly absorbed on my face
A smile permanently enhanced
In the beauty you perceive.
Down to my thoughts
I can’t control
Every crevice of my brain
In each and every fold
Is a dripping, intoxicating
Version of you
That leaks to my soul.
Your words like fingers
Pull me close
You’re verbose-silky
Send chills to seal your effects.
I sigh
In no regret
At the love I receive
So heavy
So real
It brings me to my knees
Praying for a way
To continue as friends
Or forget you completely
In submission of the end

By Kasia Gryszcuk

I know I can learn more words
in your body language

tell me with a sudden turn of your neck
with the muscles heavy on your shoulders
how much you want to speak to me

convince me with the warm arguments of your hands
insist with your tight and sweaty stomach
against mine

With fingers, whisper in my hair

I will paint a bedtime story
with the blue of my eyes
locked in yours

and you will fall asleep
to the rocking rhythm of my breath

By Zama Ndlovu

Love may sometimes stumble,
but ours will never fall,
for what we feel within,
is the greatest love of all.

I hear the music play,
lost in its melody,
we dance throughout the night,
together, you and me.

As we dance into the night,
and the night time fades away,
I will be cradled in your arms,
in your arms, I will stay.

Sullivan Ballou (March 28, 1829 – July 28, 1861), was a lawyer, politician and major in the United States Army. He is best remembered for the eloquent letter he wrote to his wife a week before he fought in the First Battle of Bull Run.

July the 14th, 1861

Washington D.C.

My very dear Sarah:

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.

Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.

But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death—and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.

I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and “the name of honor that I love more than I fear death” have called upon me, and I have obeyed.

Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar—that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.

As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God’s blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.

Sullivan

By Yumna Sadan

Lie beside me
And kiss my eyes
A thousand times
So that I know
You will walk with me
In dreams and in wake
For surely I have known you
In another incarnation
And I loved you then
As well as now
My Eternal Sunshine

By Khaya Dlanga

We were friends
Maybe not
Maybe more
Maybe less
Maybe between friendship and what would never be

Polite friends
With Polite feelings
And Polite words

Feelings lingered
Dangled
Unsaid
Unspoken
Obvious secrets

Polite friends
With Polite feelings
And Polite words

We smiled
Some secret
Invisible kisses
Never shared
But wished for

Polite friends
With Polite feelings
And Polite words

On Saturdays we saw movies
But really saw each other
We held hands
That were never held

Polite friends
With Polite feelings
And Polite words

“I adore you” we would say
Three polite words
Burying three bolder words
That would never be said

Polite friends
With Polite feelings
And Polite words

You sat on my desk
You wore my shades
You sent me poetry
You wrote me a poem

“I wear you like an etching in my blood
For you will always be with me”

Polite friends
With Polite feelings
And Polite words

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