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By: Jordan Bar Eythan

Ask me, what we could have been if?
If we had one more night at that cheap motel, drunk from a bottle of rum?
If we had one more conversation with ourselves, trying to reason it out?
Or maybe, perhaps, if one of us had the courage to touch deep inside, and confess:
We have been more than friends this whole time.

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By: Jordan Bar Eythan

Hands up, legs straight.

Chin forward, count to eight.

Swirl, spin, jump. It is simple as that.

Turn, ready, catch!

Look at me, I’m flying in the dark.

The pounding clocks of hell sounding like heartbeats miles away,

smile as he caresses my hair promising: “I’ll catch you, worry not.” 

But as the song reaches its end, our eyes meet, and hands burn of touch.

Here it is again, that nostalgic smell of cigarettes and sweat;

Will the curtains be forever shut?

I leap, jump, the stage feels alive, the air dense but his eyes shine.

A tear drops, the audience clap, one dance and I feel like,

I have been touched for the very first time.

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By: Gabi Duvdevani

“Why don’t you speak during sex?”   
I giggle. You’re serious, stripped of clothes and shame, observing me like a slightly-too-soft apple. (How do I even begin to talk about it…?)
“How do you tell men what you like?”
I try to melt into the mattress, drown out your questions.
“I don’t.”

For the same reason a 4-year-old girl doesn’t count to 600. Because she can’t.
Or doesn’t know how. Maybe she did, once, when her big brothers showed her. When she felt safe, trusting no one would mock her for mixing up 6 & 9.

“You realize you’re fucked up, right?” Your naked eyes scorch me.
“Your voice isn’t a privilege for good boys only.”
My walls grew used to muffled sounds, expertly mixing pleasure with dread.
No one could ever tell.

“I wish… for someone who just knows. I won’t have to say a word.

No words, no shame, no awkwardness…” You’re appalled.
“Even your fantasy is on mute! Your dreamy mind-reader’s just an excuse to Forget how to speak. Remember: You have a voice. Please, use it.”

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By: Daniel Niv

Ever since I met you

my words are chained to your name.

I hide you behind each metaphor I write,

behind meter and rhyme,

in the space between the lines.

Your touch is felt on every page,

your eyes are the inspiration

that moves my pen.

Can't you see

I'm bleeding all this ink?

Don’t you want to be more than poetry?

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Silent Curtains

By: Danielle Madmon

We don’t touch anymore

we lie in the space between you and me.

two familiar faces

strangers as can be.

The ever-changing music

of the heart -

new memories take us farther from the start.

White oceans in our bed,

silent curtains,

tears are shed.

We don’t touch anymore

we lie in the space between you and me.

I dream of cappuccino on a porch in Italy,

while you're dreaming of salty waters

where the sun kisses the sea.

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Ol’ Faithful

By: Zed Katsuyi

There's a shadow I must tell you about.

Perhaps it whistles in your ear when it's dark.

It observes your every move and rehearses your worst moments

time and time again.

It reeks deep into your nostrils with its presence,

surrounding you with its vile stench aura.

Its touch is the worst,

possessing and gripping tight

with its long and cold paralysing hands.

Hovering and freezing all to submission.

Burn that shadow with your passion,

light it with your desire,

bring your own special touch,

and face the heart of darkness.

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Finger  t i p s 

By: Daniel Niv

Your touch reached


my skin, to everything


I felt my soul

rising in me

and reaching to

my finger t i p s,

     pushing them

to slowly caress

every inch

of you as well.

We only spoke

through our hands,

and their touch


all the words

we never said.

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By: Jenny Averkovsky

A desire has tortured my body for too many nights,

while my soul has always been searching for new heights.

Like a ray of sunlight he came to me,

warming my cold heart with his kiss.

Don’t deny me or my heart, let our naked souls make a promise, a vow:

“Teach me how to live in the light and in return, I will give you my heart.”

But the waves of life were stronger than our touch.

Hopeless, I was searching for the sun.

Only to find a lost treasure buried deep inside my heart.

Nobody’s touch will ever make me complete,

only self- love will fill the void with some peace.

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