Bella

Men who want women, eat calf’s liver and greens, something clings to them, as the coming night groans, a wind hushed soul freezes, it chills to their bones, worried they appear timid, by the city's muffled seethe, their desires know no limit, hope these ladies might glow, make love every evening, white hotels like a road show, breath bitter as almonds, leaves what love has gleaned, salted as caramel, between golden tones, they see what Goya’s seen, richer, older, needing pillows, wine, bread, falling leaves.

Annie

Who removes the cast, do only kids look to home, the singing grass, Verde across the terrace, Campari , dark glasses, soda, a city wakes from fast, The Café’ du Repas, I regret my tone , pray at the border with France, deny the chasm, shielded from your woes, loving other women, sourball summer Maria Callas, who am i to moan, whisky colours thrum and sing, sea birds arc and prance, in summer of their tour, look again and offer thanks, for cadence of your loan.

Anneka

The poetes maudit you always loved keep me in the garden is that all there is beside your son who goes back to his mother the one who scatters easy the fruits of men day fades uneasy salt claims an early due is this just a dry run for your evening with me 'i ache for a baby' I moan what have you begun to dance me again dicey laughter jolted kisses birds at dusk settle and hum is it just by listening waters run?

Alicia

Do we think of others, while screaming down the phone, the cross we bear of mothers, prayers for all those, whose thoughts are blown, on summers' blue clothes, drumbeats on marshlands smothers, where we dance alone , men flit like flies uncovered, we can only suppose, by water and evening’s pheromones, what they try to impose, our days filled with lovers, Guggenheim, Tate, Prado, playing cards for trouble, our hand a signalled force more than we can know a river runs its course, questions how we grow ?

Azira

Why beseech the mothers, set afire their wooden frames, steal our way home, cotton, gold and spices, what games we play, the infinite knots to splice, sunlight rings with drums, we return the people’s hail, these islands of sweet summer, to settle here or fly, draw away from this place, a seething nest of lies , leave this port for others, inscribe it with our name our names on bloody visits, it’s the reason why, we forage the Spanish Main, our troubles turn to light, we won’t forget to smother, a life in joyous phases, a careworn cache of lovers, dance among our graves.

Aurore

There's times I wish, I’d never been born, on this wretched bridge, my taxi is gone, now leave me alone, in this third interregnum, what makes me think, I know what I’m doing, getting jealous in drink, splashing eau de cologne, Spring coming on, standing by the road, then the clouds shrink, a ship's coming home, curtains start to twitch, they see me walk, an unsteady sojourn, to meet the other souls a ship majestic and garish resplendent in the sun. white funnels red carriage a time to be gone.

Abira

Do you measure distance, looking down a bottle of beer, as if polishing a crystal, the tenor of your bones, a river washes clear, a time to be explored, the cormorants we saw flippant, flap in a broken weir, last tide before the winter, has my lover frozen, somewhere close to tears, when I say please go, knees and face seek penance, a trapeze of wasted years, eyes crying for an infant, do I record each tone, of his faded artists gear, a presence in each zone, I’ll never appear listless, silver will cup my ears, I shall be effervescent, there will be happy years.