By Ana Varela
I wonder if they knew that when
they put the lung filled balloons on the floor that I’d pick one up
and feel the song vibrate in the palm of my hands
as if I didn’t already feel it on my tympanic membrane.
I could see the notes too-
flying off him like tears and beads off a Mardi Gras parade
and you say they are only beads of sweat.
All those bodies watching, bobbing, tempted to move
And feeling the song telling them what to do but they’re too cool.
So they frantically fight their urge to bend their spine
and feel that feeling when you dance and you fly.
But they look strange… shaking only their heads as they do,
arms crossed faces serious.
I wonder if they know what I knew…that I am not alone…
I know that music and words always reach more than one soul…
Or keep fighting. You’re too cool.
And yet, you can’t keep still, the rhythm inside you, can make you move.
Queen of the Unloved
By Anna Abella
There laid dirty in between her delicate finger nails
Her beautiful porcelain skin quickly went plum.
No matter how much she shrieked, her voice traveled into nothingness
She was slowly slipping away
She returned the kiss to Evil
His eyes reflected the Moon,
She conceived his bastard child.
As her heart dropped
To the cold vacuum of space,
Her lips curved into a grin.
Her gaze shined as the star bursted in space,
She then turned to become the Godmother of the outcasts,
Queen of the unloved,
Finally surrendered to exhaustion.
What a peculiar destiny for one who gave her all
Yet took such euphoria in life’s simple games.
It was a losing battle that claimed her life too soon.
Let her young, tired merge, with the ebb and flow of the universal woe.
As she went, she felt a stab of regret for letting Him in her heart,
The breath of air she had given to so many others.
Secretly possesses you.