Valentina Cano

Wedding Night

I am not a locked door.

Or a carpet to roll up.

I’m not a pile of wood

drying with age.

I am sky,

planes of it spreading and multiplying

into upside down echoes of each other

until I am everything around you.

A translucent flytrap.

An endless glass tunnel.

A tightening metal ring.

Fly

She caught scent of him,

a bonfire in the rotating room.

Smoke filled her lungs

like cobwebs, like silk.

Every breath became a trap

and she thought of flies

in abandoned drinks.

A rush of sweetness

and drenching of wings.

Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time either writing or reading. Her works have appeared in such magazines as Exercise Bowler, Blinking Cursor, Theory Train, Cartier Street Press, Berg Gasse 19, Precious Metals, A Handful of Dust, The Scarlet Sound, The Adroit Journal, Perceptions Literary Magazine, Welcome to Wherever, and The Corner Club Press. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of the Web and the Pushcart Prize.You can find her here: http://carabosseslibrary.blogspot.com