She smiled, stretching her lips upward, as she realized she had reached the glass ceiling.But there was no emotion, no feeling, only a rage that she could hardly contain. The men in the boardroom looked with self- satisfaction as the CEO gave his choice for President of the corporation. They fully realized that they must keep this resounding force down among the women where she belonged. She was beautiful, it was true, and way more capable than the rest of them, but they knew they must keep their good old boy society if they wanted to succeed.

“This is not fair!” she told herself. “They will be very sorry because I will never let them get the upper hand.” 

 The smug gentlemen had no idea of the extent she could make them suffer. How did they ever think she had gotten this far when all the men held her back? But Lilah went home angry that evening and began to hatch her plan. After all, she had done it before and had never been caught. She always got what she wanted, of that she was certain. She went into her safe and removed the anthrax that she had stored there for just such occasions, handling it carefully with a gas mask and gloves. Using her key to the office, she went in late that night and scattered the poison around the air vent of the boardroom. She called the CEO late that evening and said she was sick.

“Just because I didn’t pick you as President, you don’t have to be a sore loser,” he smirked. “I fully expect you to be there tomorrow to run the meeting because I’m going out of town. That is, if you plan to keep your job!”

Lilah again called him the next morning and said she couldn’t come in. The boss decided to cancel his other meeting and go in instead. Soon the powdery fumes seeped into the boardroom, the pompous men began gasping and were rushed to the hospital where most of them died a painful death. The few that survived would never again be able to run a company, suffering physical and mental problems the remainder of their lives.

No matter how much Lilah was begged, she refused to come in to straighten out the corporation. “It’s an unsafe work space.” she said.

But you can’t keep a good psychopath down as she went on to do what she must to open her world to opportunity.

Someone kissed me tonight. I expected it to feel the way it used to after a few too many beers. Familiar, but distant, and just warm enough to get me by.

But I was wrong.

It was ice cold regret hitting the pit of my stomach, burning my lips and making me sick as I cried so hard I threw up every bit of poison that found its way into me.

It was cold, unforgiving, and wrong.

How was I to know?

I fell in love with you so quickly, and every kiss and touch was so perfect. Your lips were made for mine, your fingers designed to interlock and guide me home when I take a wrong turn.

I know things now.

I know I love you.

I know I've loved you since the moment your eyes and lips met mine,

I know how home is supposed to feel, and I know how to work through the toughest, darkest nights imaginable.

You've always been the man I knew I'd love.

I just hope I get more time.

Just one kiss, is all I need.

Ship: USS Clarke

Registry: NKX-513

Type: Colonial Science Vessel

Date: March 23, 2063

Automated message, as follows: We found the Eye. Beware the Eye. By the time you see it, it will be too late.

Ship USS Talbot

Registry: NCKX-1013

Type: Exploratory, Constellation Class

Date: May 6, 2089

First officer's log: We intercepted the message today. I've never seen the captain so uncertain what to do. The crew is on edge. We wonder if we'll make it home. I do not know what to do to help.

my heart's on a backslide down the sky

waning into space blackness

my lungs hidden, choked, and ashen

full of eraser shavings and breaths that should've been

____"i-love-you-s" or 

________poetry.

i'm on a traincar into the mundane,

the organs that once held my fearlessness gone gray

____and feeble

feeling the night,

____and not the day.

Raising my glass high

I enjoin churning seas

to quaff sips of life.

Roses are red,

violets are blue.

The drops of blood on the sidewalk,

they remember you.

After a whiff, my smooth, quiet feet,

they arrived at your door.

The lights are out.

Your swimming heart I already adore. 

In a flash I entered,

erect and aroused. 

Your white, rosy globes

and your sweet swan neck, 

they call their dark spouse.

Ever careful,

I knelt before your sleeping form.

My ancient teeth, they moved to devour

the lady who will be no more. 

You planted seeds of hope in my stomach

Watered them for nine long months

Against all odds

We created something.

But all the tears we cried,

All the warmth of your body

Pressed to mine,

Could never have made it last.

Maybe I'm made of infertile ground,

Cement blocks tucked under the carefully piled garden you tended to so carefully.

Maybe after all these years you were right, and I really am not meant for you. Maybe I should have walked away sooner.

Yet,

When I see flowers blooming in between sidewalk slabs,

I feel the familiar kick

Of hope inside me.

Under the red neon

she shivers as

another seven-thousand

yen worth of flesh

slurries across

the parking lot.

Her brain twists,

caught somewhere

between Tagalog,

English and Japanese.

As she licks a

sultry "Kon bon wa"

into his ear

the Virgin Mary

weeps and begins

burning her work visa.