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*** Some droplets of wine fell onto our hugging thumbs. Startled, a branch bloomed. *** "Shall we sing and bloom?" the pierced nightingale's heart asked a dandelion.

– Yet For You – We returned to the place we are yet to build. 24 times. All through the day. – And no sun, rising or setting, forgot to be seen – The library in my head had not a book about your eyes? – Stop! Again. Choose where to crumble – Because the apple in Eden bore all questions. – Collapse! – Never would I laugh, nor dance, or drink, love enough too th

Words to give to someone yet to come. Inquire into that fleeting togetherness: of joining and parting.

I find your story to be the most prominent one in the whole Anthology. Leaving alone the style and wording, stripping the text to the intial idea(s), it really bears a profound, indepth dynamic of the human heart. The theme about those momentary life-happenings that change us existentially is very close and dear to me. It was a pleasure ot read your story.

The boy was giving love always not when needed. Hurting, though also always happy to put a smile on a shadowed, hiding heart, he gave his all – himself in return for emptiness of words, taken neatly from a shelf. Dimming all his beams, seeking of him only pleasure, his loved ones were untrue to his tender, calming virtue. Mattered non a bit, the boy was strong in will; his tears – dried deep beneath the river’s heartless bottom; his hands did learn resist to clutch airless dre

All that is me and all that has been when once I was free is just but a dream. All that is now, all that’s my soul gives nightmares of how, how far will I fall. All that I feel, and all that I see, all that is real is taken from me. All that is numb when you’re walking inside was once making a thump, but now trying to hide.

In the dying will of my feelings when I numbly perish, slowly ceasing to exist; breaking all illusions, fevering like mad, painfully obscuring pictures of the past, I try to reach… Your hand once more! Your eyes once more! Your heart ONCE MORE!

You are beautiful. My god, so beautiful… Everything about you is beautiful. Your hands are so beautiful. And your feet are so beautiful. Your eyes are beautiful. And your hair is too. I know I want you. You are beautiful. I want you morning, day and night. On mornings… when I wake alone. In the light of day… when I wish you close. Especially at night… when the bedding doesn’t warm. You will always be beautiful, but you’re the most right now. So, be with me. Now. Together. A

Thank you for reading and for your words!

You're welcome to experience it next year. Though, the celebration has become quite commercialized... For that reason the old dogs have started a July Evening.Thank you

There was more I wanted to tell readers, but that is going to be some other time, story.I've learned English since I was very little, but there are many things I still do. Masterfully? Thank you for reviewing!

Hey Yettie!You're welcome to come visit whenever you want. This story was crafted in 5 days of writing in nature's embrace. Maybe the inspiration I got in the forest made it as you say. Thank you for your words

Thank you

Hehe, I'll probably tell you the same thing: I've written it with an idea, but that idea transforms when you yourself read it. You don't have to get it! You have to feel it. Poetry is not written by thinking, it's written by feeling. The poem is just a shape of that feeling. And because you and I have experienced the feeling differently, say love, what I've really wanted to say may be different than what you'll read.This poem in particular is about that high school time when you walk through the halls as though you're in a candy store. You see boys, and boys, and cute boys that you feel attracted to, but... what can you do. You have my thanks

Hehe, thanks for pointing out the errors!For the 'magnetizing' thingie check here: http://www.thefreedictionary.com/magnetizing It can be used in more than just the Physical sense (To attract, charm, or influence; an obsolete word of mesmerize) I haven't said where the story takes place It pretty much depends on the teacher. Why the problem with letting the boy go? I can tell many stories from experience about this. It's a little true that I rushed at the end of the story, but just the more left for the reader's imagination. And if it's only the question if they would become a couple... Ahh... A moment in a million years to be ruined by certainty Write me about those unanswered questions. Thank you for your words

Errors, yeah... Resolved... I didn't resolve anything, Alec and Zac did it by themselves. But just because the story ends in a romantic way, doesn't mean the boys' struggle is finished. Your fourth type is sort of the same, a type of Grandpa's first. He means the spirit by which humans live, not under what circumstances. This was my first story of such kind and it's special to me. The topic of sexuality actually takes little part in the story; it's part of a bigger one. The one you call 'ideological', though it's actually things everyone has asked themselves and wished for at some stage in their lives. There is more! The story continues to unfold inside each and every reader... I hope. Thank you for your review

We have an Uke and Seme (for the first chapter that is presumed for the way the characters are described and act) both with a nicknames that give hints to our imagination about their physical traits, psychological traits and even further possible conflicts and problems; not to mention about the active and passive partner, unless the writer does some kind of twist. All that just from the nicknames! The Uke is artistic in nature; has insecurities about his size, unsure, we find a little about his troubled and traumatizing past. The Seme is big,strong, and muscular; does sports, confident, friendly and good-natured person. The sketch of the story is kind of typical and I hope that the continuation and development of is more dynamic and not predictable. Of course all of that fades in the background when written good, as it is, and when we read the awesome scene with the markers, closeness, touching between Little Man and Ogre and the interesting things that followed. The story should definitely be continued and although readers might guess what follows I think it will be a different kind of experience and joy of reading.

A Summer of Mornings To Billy who gave me many of his likes and Tony for being a great friend. 1986. Communist regime in Bulgaria. The place is Varna. It’s summer. About ten young people under the influence of the American hippie culture of the 60’s gather on a glade in the Sea Garden. They drink, play guitars and await the sunrise. The cause is plain. During his service in the army one of them stays alone on post the night against the 1st of July. At that time he promise

Four friends travel east to welcome the rising sun. Each with their own problems and hardships, their friendship is the most valuable thing in their lives.

I have many thoughts and things to say after reading your review that I am left wondering how I should respond.I keep hearing from readers that Jace is quite the character. It's not just about him being a writer that he doesn't accept labels. I think that approach to homosexuality or whatever orientation the person is is essential if he wants to be himself. I don't know how well the story is really written. As I've told people around here English is not my native language and Book Bonds and some of my older stuff here started as an experiment of some sort. Though, now after many responses not just to this story I've started to take it more seriously. My first idea for the story was for it to be more on suggestions-how-to-write side, but as the characters and plot developed it turned into a romantic one fused with that idea. You shouldn't be down if you think you've read something better, rather you should continue to follow your own path in writing. I would be happy if I've given you some piece of inspiration, cause it's a great return for the author if he knows he has made the reader to think. By poetry you probably mean the italics parts and chapters? I have devoted them special time and care so that they become part of the story with giving it a more deeper meaning. So, a bit longer than a normal chapter. But I'm not a frequent updater. I thank you for your thoughtful review!

Did you already forget the previous two chapters in italic? Sometimes... well, almost every night Poe keeps him company, so it's not that uncomfortable, heh. Thank you

Hehe, maybe I can inspire someone to make his room like that. It's kind of my (Jace's) idea for a best place. Thank you for your words

Two questions welcomed us as Merry and I entered the kitchen. One was innocent and curious enough to embarrass me, the other had an unusual accusing and desperate, at the same time, tone to it. “How was it?” Andrew asked, nudging Merry and grinning from ear to ear. It was one of the rarest times when I had blushed so deeply. Merry, on the other hand, had no problem and smiled broadly. “Do you know something? Tell me!” Reece was quick to follow with the second one as he saw me. The blushing be

“I deny my nonexistence!” is what I’ll hear you say in my mind illusioned till it comes my last day. They told me nights ago: you disappeared and left. Great love gives life for two, but does life love the final theft? Forever searching and regretting… I never slept and crawled in time. You never guessed my feelings. I never touched your lips sublime. Where are you? Forever lost? Or remembered in the scars? Hear me… Here I am… speaking of my love to stars.

To know your name must my own desire become a mask of tame for the feelings dire? Nameless you remain as the moment passes. And to you I am the same – a person from the masses. What bond we share, nameless boy, together? I doubt you dare be known as queer forever. A side: one view and way. My soul: a shadow and a dream of a love that can only say how your eyes beseem to beam.