Like Writing a Poem

 

By Lana Bella

Besides you, she is astral ray, falling.
Into your wrist she splits in two,
breaking back sepals of nightbloom,
ice grips down the shadow of red.
Winter chill catches on wristbone,
less drafty through cuts of your hand
reaching out, waking some ripples
of air becoming circuitry. Like she is
the midnight star, you hold yonder
from her pelt then bless it with your
lips, like writing a poem, dearing to
an ending of tale. For an instant, this
begins as love, skin, ornament and
ache, luminous the way she is every-
thing and still leaves you hungered,
hunger to burn when she is burning
on the other side, so near to and all at
once.

 
 
 
 

A four-time Pushcart Prize, five-time Best of the Net, & Bettering American Poetry nominee, Lana Bella is an author of three chapbooks, Under My Dark (Crisis Chronicles Press Press, 2016), Adagio (Finishing Line Press, 2016), and Dear Suki: Letters (Platypus 2412 Mini Chapbook Series, 2016), has had poetry and fiction featured in over 500 journals, such as Acentos Review, Barzakh, EVENT, The Fortnightly Review, Ilanot Review, New Reader, Notre Dame Review, Rock & Sling, The Stillwater Review, Sundress Publications, & Whiskey Island, among others. Lana resides in the US and the coastal town of Nha Trang, Vietnam, where she is a mom of two far-too-clever-frolicsome imps.