Alessandra G.

I mustn’t cry,
For she blends so beautifully with the sheen of the hot-rimmed sink.
I almost thought she was water and so I
Reached out. And found the ebbing white blending into the kilned cracks of my fingertips.

A music spells within me,
And the world is calm.
And I love that the world doesn’t hear. Even I cannot hum the
Harmonies, I only hold part. And I let it boil and cling to the heavy stillness I’ve created.

The same rotting stretch of my legs. The long-buried sadness of solitude still rattling in my bones. A dreary music eats its way through my skin, but some days I can hardly hear it.

The etching shadows taunt me
In their abandoned care and malleable spirits.
For I am stationed to face the day’s wrath,
Laying on the floor in the ruddy heat. Stiff wooden shelves my cage, stacked high with dampened memories.