©Valentina Cano
I came close to wrapping
it all up.
Closing the door on a stained shirt
still imprinted with that day.
Close to ending it,
I felt a lightness,
feathers, down,
across my chest.
All thought stripped clean of coating,
dug out to the very truth.
It was harsh as gravel,
and dirty with the gunk of lies,
but it was the leftovers,
what might bloom again.
Coming close,
I touched the end,
my hand retreating,
a timid ocean wave.
Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time either writing or reading. She was born in 1985. Her works have appeared in Exercise Bowler, Blinking Cursor, Theory Train, Magnolia’s Press, Cartier Street Press, Berg Gasse 19, Precious Metals and will appear in the upcoming editions A Handful of Dust, The Scarlet Sound, The Adroit Journal, Perceptions Literary Magazine, Welcome to Wherever, The Corner Club Press, Death Rattle, Danse Macabre, Subliminal Interiors, Generations Literary Journal, Super Poetry Highway, Stream Press, Stone Telling, Popshot and Perhaps I’m Wrong About the World. You can find her here: http://coldbloodedlives.blogspot.com
