Contributor: John Ogden

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Sweet sweat still scents my sheets
a memory of you
in stains and smells
of a night
when I looked into your eyes
and saw
all the days we'd ever come to spend together
all the children we'd come to raise together
all the nights we'd come
hold each other
through the dark
through the cold
through to dawn
to the blue
of each brighter
tomorrow.


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John Ogden was conceived of a government form and a passing mailbox. He lives somewhere out in the woods of a rural land more akin to the fantasy realms of literature than real life, and his favorite dirt bikes will always be the broken ones.