From Chicago I Supermarket women, unfolding like opened cans of wet, gray sardines packed tight in isles of the matrimonal cannery, now spill out between the soup-stocked shelves. II pitted-lava black and hard so hard is the pavement and the pavement children. city child, i know you. you the one with the man on the L and the gum and unafraid, i know you: i saw you in a movie. III Quite selfishly you've stolen all the quiet from train-roofed screeching Chicago streets and stuffed it into august-weather eyes-so assuredly silent and ever-blue calm. IV a 6 a.m. shadow of an obscure and unappreciated bird, a gray bird shadow bumps across tenament building roofs below my twelfth story eyes across hollow pipes belching black across tired gray clothes strung between bottomless alley slits, past my windowed mind onto some other-windowed world, or infinity. obscure and unappreciated, returns my compliment does not heed me hunched in the windowed frame over now-cold coffee and a full ashtray. Today we spent the afternoon eating avacados and mushrooms among hatted women with molded faces cautiously arranged at rod-iron tables, loving boldly with our eyes as though we were alone. Then I held you and we walked bare in the warm rain, down saran-wrapped sidewalks talking of fear, affirming our existence in passing reflections on store windows. VI Sharing a bed and our bodies for endless hours of darkness until new light, we awoke to the sounds of a violinist practicing in the room next to ours and timid rain on a window. Judy Thorn Contrast Each knowing the same world. Each sharing the same night, the same day. Each wishing upon the same star, laughing under the same sun. Each walking the same path, hand in hand. Each knowing, but never saying, of a life that could Never be, For you are not black like me. Renee Clegg On Life And Love If I could know you, and you, me -It would take a life time, At least that long -I think I'd find you to be the person I already feel you are, But even more so. And you could come to know me -Perhaps better than I know myself right now - Because you'd be there to listen when I tried to explain. And when the end of our life came, I would leave you, As a leaf falling from its tree - Dead, but having once been a part of you, Having thrived on your strength and life that is in me. Mary Beth Fisher Comparing Each time I try to fall in love I can't. I compare. My last friend tried in every way to make me happy. But I refused his kindness. Another hopeful romance stillborn. I think it was because his nose was not quite right, or maybe we didn't see eye to eye on politics I don't remember now. I invent excuses but more than that I compare. One young man who asked me for my hand could not understand just why I turned whenever he would look into my eyes. His were not yours, nor lips, nor voice, nor smile. And I chose to go my way alone because I compare. Those who know me even just a little-say comparing is for other things not men. Teaching methods, cars, and famous novels. Perhaps I really shouldn't but I do-compare. Dianne Clegg Replay Warmly tingle Down my back Your fingers Touch my lips. And soon they Fall upon my Waist and linger On my hips. And soon I giggle Then I sigh, And snuggle Just a bit, And soon recall Your loving hands With a loving hit. Warmly tingle Down my back Your fingers Touch my lips... Christy Cox