Comma Poems

During the outdoor orientation boot camp, Wanda Lawson, the daughter of the richest tycoon, suddenly suffered from a heart attack. She collapsed to the ground and went through a seizure, her complexion bluish-gray. My boyfriend, Joseph Jensen, the drill instructor of the boot camp, overheard my pretentious roommate, Ella Ziegler, murmur, "She's usually fine, so why is she suddenly suffering from some sort of attack when it's time for the drills to start? She must be faking it in order to laze around!" Because of those assumptions, Joseph kicked the medication that Wanda managed to pull out of her pocket into the nearby river. "Get lost if you want to play dead! Don't drag us down with you!" I quickly dived into the river and scooped the medication out. Thanks to my efforts, Wanda's life was saved. Her father was enraged when he found out about the news and wanted to hold someone responsible. With tears streaking down my face, I begged Wanda to not expose Joseph. She nodded quietly to me. Joseph narrowly escaped the judgment. But Ella was expelled by the university right away for her malicious and provocative words. She even had a permanent stain of poor conduct marking her record. On the third day after Ella returned to her village, her family forced her to marry an older man who had remained single for far too long because of his violent temperament. Wanda's father was grateful to me for saving Wanda's life, so he listed me into the list of beneficiaries of his family's trust fund. The amount of money I received was second only to Wanda's portion. On the night news of Ella getting beaten to death by her husband got out, Joseph lovingly invited me to the place we first met so that we could go hiking. When I stood on the steep slope of the mountain, Joseph suddenly snatched the backpack filled with supplies, which included a life-saving whistle, from me. Then, he shoved me off the slope. "Why must you be such a busybody? If you never saved Wanda, she wouldn't have been able to testify against Ella because she'd have died! A murderer like you should just die!" Having broken my spine from the fall, I ended up dying at the foot of the mountain. After my death, not only Joseph got to receive the trust fund thanks to his relationship to me as my fiance, but he also began sponsoring low-income students by using Ella's namesake. That was how he reaped both wealth and reputation in one go. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Wanda suffers from the heart attack.

Gair, the third-born son of the Laird to the largest clan on the border, is one of three identical triplets. He is quite content with the fun and freedom of a third-born son. He enjoyed spending his days training with the men and his nights laying with willing lasses. Leaving his brothers to squabble over how to run the clan and worry about providing heirs suited him fine. Unfortunately, the king has other ideas. To keep peace in the highlands and unite the borderlands the king feels all three men must have a clan of their own. Since he believes all three are unwed, he chooses brides for them which will result in each having a clan to rule and a wife to create heirs with. He wed Gai to a beautiful woman. The problem? The woman had married his brother two years earlier! With a coin toss, the brothers swap identities, switching wives and clans. Will anyone notice? Will Gair regret leaving his home and the beautiful woman the king had gifted him to head off into the unknown, to run a clan he's never visited and marry a woman he's never met? Isobel is an outcast in her own clan. She refuses to dress or act like a lady. Instead, she has found a way to become nearly invisible, and to help and who are being abused to escape to new lives. She had thought herself safe from the dangers of marriage. It hadn't occurred to her that the king would see it done. Can she trust this stranger with her secrets? Can he help her heal from the past? Most importantly, can she help him save their clan from being taken over by a band of rogue mercenaries?

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

She had never imagined that the very touch which saved her from falling would be the one to make her own heart stumble instead. There was a hidden fire beneath the cold edge of his voice, and in his distant eyes lingered a secret he refused to let slip. For the first time, she felt that even the frost could melt — if only she dared to step a little closer.

Ninety-nine lashes. That was the price of loving the Alpha’s son. Bettoni Williams gave everything to Ardon. Her heart. Her trust. Her dignity. In return, he accused her of witchcraft, stripped her of her rank, and watched as she was whipped ninety-nine times in the public square. Broken, disowned, and demoted to a Gamma, Bettoni swore she would never trust a royal again. She planned to rot in the slums, to remain invisible and forgotten. But fate, and a bored Alpha Commander, had other plans. When the kingdom's most feared war hero, Commander Zachery, returns home, Alpha Jaceon fills the grand hall with silk-dressed noblewomen and forces him to choose a wife before the blood moon or lose everything he has. Annoyed, Zachery slips out the back. Bettoni, hiding from the feast in a dark alley, stumbles upon him in a moment that would make any sensible woman run. She doesn't run, but calls him a wild animal to his face, and this only makes him immediately obsessed with her. He drags her into the feast by the wrist, declaring; "You're going to be my Commandress tonight." Now, Bettoni is trapped in a marriage with a brute who collects wives like trading cards. Zachery is uncouth, violent, and dangerously seductive. He treats the palace like a playground and his brother, the King, like a joke. Bettoni intends to use this monster to climb back to the top and destroy the family that ruined her. But Zachery is not a ladder. He is a cliff. And he has no intention of letting his new sweetheart go. Revenge is a dish best served cold. But the Commander likes his nights scorching hot. ~•~ ️ Mature Content Warning (18+): This story contains 18+ content including explicit erotica, detailed sexual scenes, and mentions of sexual violence including rape and assault. If such themes make you uncomfortable, please read with caution.

Je suis revenue à la vie, et j'ai décidé d'écrire le nom de ma sœur sur la demande de mariage. Cette fois, j'ai laissé Laurent Hénault à ma petite sœur. Dans cette vie, j'ai été la première à faire porter la robe de mariée à ma sœur, à lui faire enfiler la bague de fiançailles. J'ai moi-même provoqué chacune de leurs rencontres. Il a emmené ma sœur à Paris, et je suis aussitôt partie dans le sud pour étudier à l'université de Nice. Tout cela, simplement parce que, dans ma vie précédente, j'avais déjà dépassé la cinquantaine, et pourtant, j'ai tout de même accepté de les voir — lui et notre fils — me supplier à genoux de divorcer, simplement pour accomplir sa dernière histoire d'amour avec ma sœur. Ayant revécu une vie, je n'ai souhaité qu'une chose : déployer mes ailes et m'éloigner de tout attachement sentimental.

Chloe Sue never imagined na ang mapapangasawa niya ay isang lalaking parang yelo na sa lamig, silent and emotionally distant. And Yohan Benjamin never thought that this girl, who was supposed to be just part of a family arrangement, would slowly start breaking down the walls he had spent his whole life building. Nang unang nakita ni Chloe si Yohan, nasa loob siya ng isang eleganteng hall, sun-kissed ang kutis nito. 'Yung mga mata niya, those deep almond eyes, parang may misteryong hindi mo agad mabasa. Tipong kahit sinong lalaki, mahuhulog. Kaya hindi nakapagtataka na halos mapanganga ang buong pamilya Benjamin. Pero si Yohan? Walang reaksyon. Nakatungo lang siya sa maayos niyang military uniform, seryoso ang mukha, at tila ba walang kahit anong nararamdaman. Kung ibang babae siguro, matatakot. Pero si Chloe, curious lang. They're bound by a decades-old debt between their families, at ngayong malapit nang ipadala si Yohan sa battlefield, kung saan walang kasiguraduhan kung makakabalik pa siya, the elders from both families started pushing. Wala nang oras at kailangan na raw nilang magpakasal. Not because they loved each other, but because it was their duty.

She already knew that she's hopeless. She didn't even have a little chance for the guy she really love. Maybe she will be contented from being a friend. Because love is unconditional, she said. She can watch him from a far and admire him 'til death. But what if fate gave her the chance to be noticed by her crush, what if she will be the love of her crush's life too? Chance to be touch by her significant other. A touch of a..... Wraith. Yes, a wraith. Clark had a car accident, had a comma and his soul left his body and discovered that Sashi, the girl who truly in love with him will going to save him from being a wraith.

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

While cleaning Desmond Maynard's house, I accidentally knocked over his mother's keepsake. He once told me it was his most precious possession. But when I picked it up, hundreds of love letters spilled out. There were beautiful poems, passionate lyrics, and heartfelt confessions. He had written one letter a week without stopping. On the back of each one wrote a line: To My Love, Bunny. The nickname rang a bell. It was his junior in college. Things started to make sense. I slaved away for 13 years, running his household and caring for his family, but Desmond never even said he liked me. That was because he already had someone he liked. I sorted the letters by date, put them back, and grabbed my phone to make a call. "Mom, I'm in for the marriage proposal."